A Thread Of Innocence
by Athena Linborn
Summary: Fear and determination, are major factors in Hermione Grangers decision to keep the child of a liaison she can hardly remember. All is well, until five years later, the hated father of her child, walks back in to her life!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: No recognisable characters belong to me – they are the property of J K Rowling and co. The plot and the rest of the characters however, are mine.

Authors Note: Please let me know what you think – I have this story planned out, so updates should be quite frequent.

Prologue

Panic, undiluted and terrifying, ripped through Hermione as she stared with horror at the plastic test tube clutched in her hand. In an effort to still the fear, she closed her eyes, willing the liquid in the tube to change colour – but of course it didn't. When she eventually opened her eyes, there it was, exactly as it had been before, the incriminating blue line staring up at her through the clear plastic of the tube. She shook it trying to change the colour of the line, but nothing happened. With a groan of despair, she threw the test into the bin, before staggering out of her parents' bathroom.

The silence in the house could only mean one thing; her parents were in the sitting room awaiting her verdict. The urge to bury her head in her hands and howl came over Hermione, but years of disciplining her emotions and thoughts, had left their mark; she knew howling would be a waste of her energy, and as well as giving her a nasty headache, it would achieve nothing. Resigned, she trudged miserably downstairs, to impart the news to her anxious parents.

They were sitting in silence, their cups of tea untouched in front of them. Turning as one, looking at her as she pushed open the sitting room door, they did not have to ask what the test had revealed – Hermione's face said it all. For a moment, all three stared at each other, none willing to break the heavy silence which had descended on them like a shroud. Then unable to take the silence any longer, Hermione burst out,

"Oh god, tell me this isn't happening, please!"

She threw herself into an armchair and began to cry; great racking sobs which shook her small frame. Immediately, the Grangers were galvanised into action, their shock replaced with the urge to console their distressed daughter. Both parents sprung up and knelt down, attempting to comfort the sobbing Hermione. It took them over fifteen minutes to quieten her, and finally, she sat up wiping the tears from her eyes with her sleeve and sniffing loudly.

"What do I do?" she moaned, looking wildly around as though hoping to find inspiration from the room at large. Exchanging a silent look, her parents got up off the floor and resumed their seats, both wearing worried expressions.

"Well, I'm sure it isn't that bad," Alison Granger said, "the first thing we must establish is how far along you are and take it from there."

Hermione stared at her mother, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Hermione, did you hear me? How many months gone are you?"

Blinking, Hermione replied, "Just over two, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"In that case, I don't think termination is an option; you're too far gone and it'll mean the heart and brain are already developed." At these words, Hermione let out a fresh howl and buried her face in the arm of her chair, her temporary calm deserting her.

Over an hour had passed, in which Hermione alternated between sobs and hiccupping moans of desperation; both parents were now thoroughly exasperated and fed up.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," snapped John Granger, "pull yourself together! You aren't the first girl to fall pregnant without meaning to, and you certainly won't be the last! Sit up, and we can decide what to do – howling won't get you anywhere, and certainly won't solve the present problem." His voice held a note of asperity Hermione had never heard there before.

"Your father's right, Hermione," Alison joined in, "We must decide what's best for both of you, and need your co-operation to do so."

"Well, I don't know! I honestly don't know!" Hermione sat back, her legs folded beneath her, her eyes puffy from crying and her head in her hands. "What do I do? I mean I can't get rid of it – I just can't! It just… well, it won't be… right."

"Of course you can't get rid of it! As your father said, that isn't an option. No, we must think of an alternative, after all, there're adoption agencies, and it's quite easy to find a home for a new-born as most people prefer to adopt babies than older children." These words, full of practical common sense, jolted Hermione out of her lethargy, and she stared at her mother with wide horror-filled eyes.

"You don't mean giving it up for adoption and letting strangers bring it up, after all the pain I'll have to go through in bringing it into the world?"

"Well, have you an alternative?" John asked, running his hand through his usually neat hair.

"Well…I don't know, but giving it up for adoption, I mean…."

"That," said Alison Granger, "is the only way, best for both the child and yourself. Unless, of course, the father…"

"No!" Hermione's voice reverberated around the Granger's sitting room, making the ornaments on the mantelpiece shudder. "No, he'll have nothing to do with it, nothing whatsoever. As for giving it up for adoption… I can't, I just can't! And having strangers bringing up my child? Never! I'd rather terminate than consider that option." In her anger, she had risen to her feet, and started pacing the length of the room, her eyes flashing. "No, I'll bring it up myself. It can't be that difficult, and it isn't as though I couldn't do it – you would help me wouldn't you?" A note of uncertainty had crept in to her voice and she turned to stare anxiously at her parents.

"Well, what do you think?" asked John, his face impassive, "We certainly aren't going to let you do it alone – I can't say we're particularly thrilled at this turn of events. I would've thought you'd know better, but what's done is done and there's no point in crying over spilt milk."

At these words, Alison shot a reproving look at her husband, which he ignored. Hermione watching, could not help but think that her father was disappointed in her, and this thought made her spirits plummet even further.

"Well, now we've decided what to do, it's time to turn to practical matters; although I must say I was wondering how long it would take for you to reach that conclusion," Alison smiled. "I thought that with a bit of… erm… prodding, you'd finally make the right choice. And you have – oh I am so pleased!"

"What? So you mentioned the whole adoption thing on purpose knowing full well I'd flip?"

"Well, you weren't thinking clearly, so I thought a shock may make your mind up for you. I knew you'd never consider adoption, but you were so rapped up in your own misery, you'd lost sight of your own morals."

"But still," Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "Well, I know for a fact I couldn't have done that. Honestly mum, what a way to make me come to my senses! But I suppose it worked… although that wasn't a nice way to go about it."

"Maybe so, but it did make you think about what you were saying. I suppose shock is a strange thing – it can really wrong foot some people," Alison nodded in relief.

"But the father – I mean, well, he won't make trouble will he?" John's anxious question was put in a low voice and Hermione turned to him. She was relieved to see that he seemed to have accepted the situation.

"Oh no, he won't—" she informed him shrugging, "—considering he doesn't even know I'm pregnant. And how will he know? Anyway, even if he did somehow find out, he wouldn't want anything to do with the child."

"Well, I think that's a little presumptuous of you," Alison began, her smile fading to be replaced by a worried frown. "Hermione, you _do_ know who the father is, don't you?"

"Of course I do – what do you take me for?" Hermione cried out. "No Dad, you don't know Draco Malfoy like I do. 'Purity of blood' means everything to him, and if he were to find out that he had fathered a child who was not a pureblood, he'll do everything in his power to get rid of it. He isn't a very nice person so I wouldn't worry about what he thought."

"Draco Malfoy? That boy whom you, Harry and Ron hated at school? The one who did everything in his power to make your lives a misery? No, I don't believe it!" Alison stared at Hermione as though she had never seen her before, her face pale with shock.

"Yes, the very one," Hermione looked her mother in the face as she spoke, "It isn't a nice fact, but there it is."

"So, just out of interest," John said, raising a quizzical brow and trying to hide his own shock, "if he isn't a very nice person, how come you ended up sleeping with him? I would've thought that his attitude would have ensured you kept your distance!"

Hermione bit her lip. She took a fortifying breath and explained, "Dad, to cut a long story short, he spiked my drink at Professor Dumbledore's retirement party when I wasn't looking." She looked away from her father and continued, "I took a sip and began to feel very compliant – my defences were lowered, so I didn't really object when he led me out of the room. I can't remember that much, but well…"

"So he raped you?" John demanded, his face taking on a paler shade than before. "You didn't tell me that before! What do they call it, Alison? Date Rape?" Hermione's mother looked close to tears, nodding her head silently in affirmation. John continued ranting, "Right. I remember there was something about it on the Telly the other night! My god, he could be had for that! I'm sure there're… there must be laws—"

"No, Dad," Hermione cut him off in a resigned voice, turning to stare unseeingly out of the sitting room window at the immaculately kept back garden. "It wouldn't be classed as rape. Believe me – I've thought a great deal about that. But the truth was, under the influence of that wine, I didn't put up any resistance."

John Granger looked like he wanted to interrupt, so Hermione added quickly, "Before you say anything, I checked for the trace of anything in my own blood the next day, and there was nothing in my bloodstream. Wizarding Date Rape potions are far more advanced than their non-magical counterparts, and they can't be traced."

"But there'd be physical evidence! I mean, his sperm in…" he grimaced and looked away, "well, you know what I'm getting at. And then there's that truth potion you told us about once, surely—"

"Dad," Hermione shook her head and placed her hand on her father's arm to get his attention. "by the time I could think straight – remember, I'd had quite a bit to drink as well as that potion, not to mention having the hangover of the century – but by the time I was sober, it was almost two days later, and sperm can only survive 36 hours. As for Veritaserum, Draco'd never agree to take it. It would be impossible, anyway, since he knows too many ministry officials and would easily worm his way out of it."

"But you could tell them that he put something into your drink and—" continued her father doggedly.

"What? Without any proof or evidence to back my claim up? No one in their right mind would believe that! I suffered no injuries to indicate a struggle, or anything like that! It'll just be his word against mine! And unfortunately for me, he is well known in wizarding circles. He even has a clean record as far as illegal activities are concerned, for goodness' sake. He was never even suspected for working for Voldemort, you know."

"Yes, yes, I know all that. But his father—"

"His father died when he was in his sixth year. I can't quite remember why, but Draco publicly renounced him, and so got the public's sympathy as a result. He's taken care ever since to live a clean life. And even now, he'll turn up at charity events and stuff – talk about preserving the perfect squeaky-clean image," Hermione shook her head again. "I wouldn't have a chance against him in court – he has too much influence to be accused. No, we'll have to deal with this matter alone – what he doesn't know can't kill him."

"I suppose not," Alison said sighing. "Well, I presume you'll want to carry on working so as to support yourself – I'm sure we can look after the little one during the day."

XoXoXoXo

"He's sick! Just sick! What a thing to do!" Ron sat numbly on Hermione's sofa, his face pale and bloodless from shock. Opposite him, Harry also sat as though turned to stone, a look of horror adorning his pale face.

"Well, we always knew he was a bit… erm, odd, but you're right, that's a weird thing to do, even by his standards." Hermione lapsed into thoughtful silence, absentmindedly twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "You know, the strange thing is, I'm not traumatised by it. I mean you'd think that I'd want to… well to want to rid myself of the evidence, but no. I've come to accept it as part of my life and—"

"Well of course you've accepted it," Harry retorted, scowling. "In essence, you were a willing participant. But if I'm right, the potion he spiked your drink with acts a bit like the imperious curse – it lowers a person's defences, leaving them exposed and less able to act on their own will power. We see quite a lot of cases like that at work."

"What? People use it on each other?" Ron gasped, looking horrified. "How come I've never come across a case like that?"

"Because, you're based in Hogsmeade," Harry explained. "But you will as soon as you're transferred to London. Believe me, it isn't a pretty sight. Anyway, there was a case a few weeks back where some shop owner in Knockturn Alley gave it – in the form of a 'refreshing drink' – to his customers and then, he 'persuaded' them to buy his merchandise, whether the customer wanted it or not. That stuff's pretty bad if ingested in large doses – it looks as though you got off lightly, Hermione."

"Hmm, I suppose so, but getting back to the matter at hand—" Hermione replied, trying not to think too deeply about the potion Harry had talked of.

"God, so what're you going to do?" Harry asked.

"Keep the baby, of course," Hermione frowned at the two boys – they were taking the news badly and she sighed. "Look, it isn't the child's fault – it didn't ask to be conceived and has every right to life! I can't just terminate him or her because I don't like the father. That goes against everything I BELIEVE IN!"

"But still, I mean I don't suppose that git knows about it does he?"

"Ron, I want to keep this poor innocent child alive. What do you think he'd do if he knew I was carrying his child? I'll tell you what he'll do! He'll use any means he knows of to get rid of it and me along with it! Well, I can't let that happen, and I'll make sure that he isn't going to find out. Anyway, from what I hear, he went off to America soon after the party. Wasn't that in the Daily Prophet?"

"Yeah, I heard about that from one of the other aurors," confirmed Harry. "Apparently, it was all very sudden. The rumour was that some of his business interests took a knock in the stock market, so he had to go there to sort it all out. But if you ask me, it was something more personal. I mean, he could easily get his minions to deal with his business interests. It just didn't make sense – and it was all a bit too sudden. If you ask me, the business interests rubbish was only a cover story." Harry added with a grin, "Maybe, the truth is that he's trying to avoid Azkaban for something illegal he's done. Who knows? Maybe the toad'll die on the journey there or—"

"Look, death isn't something I want to talk about right now, so please change the subject," Hermione snapped. There was a long pause and all three sat and gazed into the brightly burning fire. The day was cool; a March wind could be heard howling around the building while clouds scurried across the sky.

Frowning, Harry asked

"Why did Dumbledore invite him in the first place? I mean they weren't exactly on friendly terms, now were they?"

"Don't know – you know Dumbledore, he must've had his reasons," Ron shrugged. "I could kill him though, the slimy git. So," seeing the look on Hermione's face, Ron cast around for another topic of conversation, and brightening asked, "How's work?"

"Oh ok," Hermione smiled, "I get tired easily, but apart from that, it's really enjoyable. I mean, there's always so much to do - and the books they have in their reference library!"

"Yeah, Dad said Hanwell's is a pretty prestigious place – St Mungo's can't hold a candle to it."

"Well that's rather unfair, considering Hanwell's specifically concentrates on patients with serious and long-term brain and neural damage – you can't really compare the two."

"No," Harry chipped in, "but we all know that Hanwell's only takes in the best. You were the only healer in your set asked to join its staff. Is it true they aren't averse to using muggle methods as well as magical ones?"

"We certainly don't rule them out – there're just some things that magic can't do, however hard you try. Sometimes surgery's the only answer and it can help, whatever St Mungo's have to say. Having worked in St Mungo's for two years, it makes a nice change to leave it and work somewhere where forward thinking's encouraged."

"Yeah, I suppose," agreed Ron vaguely. "Well, at least you won't have any financial problems – just look at this place!" He indicated the sitting room – a large room covered in a thick cream Persian carpet. Bookshelves lined one wall, while the wall opposite sported floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the garden belonging to the block of flats. The walls were the same pale gold as the patterns in the carpet, creating a light airy room in which Hermione spent much of her time.

"Ron, you know as well as I do, I've spent the last year decorating this place – mum and dad let me the money to buy it and I'm gradually paying them back. True, Hanwell's pay a lot better than St Mungo's ever did, but there's more to a job than money. Look at you two – it's well known that aurors don't get paid all that much, but I don't see either of you whining because of that."

"Well, that's different – I mean, there's the danger element and you get some cracking cases!" Harry and Ron grinned, reminding Hermione vividly of their school years.

"Oh for heaven's sake, grow up both of you," she reproved, trying to keep the amusement from creeping into her voice. "Really, you're both twenty years old and I am not quite sure how you're holding down responsible jobs. Act your ages!"

The laughter died in Ron's eyes, and turning once more to Hermione he said, "Look Hermione, I'm not going to pretend that this is welcome news, but we'll stand by you no matter what!"

"Yeah, of course!" agreed Harry, "You're right, it isn't the kid's fault it's Malfoy's. Besides, you never know, things may turn out ok."

"Well, mum'll be happy to baby-sit – I mean she looks after Bill's brats during the day – one more won't make much difference," Ron added, stretching. "I dunnow about you two, but all this serious talk's made me a bit peckish – anything edible in the flat Hermione?"

Ignoring the latter part of Ron's remarks, Hermione responded, "Thanks Ron, I'll speak to Mrs Weasley to check that's ok. If it is, I'll probably end up getting her to baby-sit while I'm at work. Mum and Dad have offered to help me out as well, but as they both work, I'll feel bad impinging on their free time."

"Look, I'm sure we'll come up with something," Harry soothed, "Me and Ron can help when we're not out there catching dark wizards! Now getting back to the subject of food…"

XoXoXoXo

Hermione lay back on the comfortable sofa in her sitting room. Ron and Harry had gone over an hour ago, and she was glad to have the flat to herself to think and make plans. True, the news of the pregnancy had come as a shock, but no shock was too great that it could not be overcome. She grimaced, imagining herself pushing a pram through the park, but swiftly banished this picture of domesticity.

She looked down at her flat stomach and tried to imagine a child – one with a mixture of her own and Draco Malfoy's genes, but no image presented itself. She wondered how she would feel about this child when it was born; whether she would hate it as she had read, or whether natural maternal instincts would kick in, ensuring she would love it. Her feelings for Draco Malfoy were much simpler to analyse; she hated him for raping her – yes, it was rape, she decided – and she was determined that one day she would get even. There would be a time for revenge. And as for the child, she had to be careful that her abhorrence for the father did not influence her feelings for the unfortunate child itself. Whatever happened, she resolved to do her best for the child, who, if she were not careful, would end up the innocent victim of two people's contempt for each other.


	2. Chapter 1

Authors Note: Please refer to the prologue for the disclaimer.

Chapter One

The sound of the door opening pulled Hermione's attention from the sheath of parchment she had been reading. Glancing up, she saw her secretary, Jane Wilson, entering the room carrying what looked like the day's post. Plonking the letters down on Hermione's already cluttered desk, Jane smiled before saying, "You were in early this morning… an emergency?"

Hermione nodded before putting down the parchment. "A fractured spinal chord was brought in late last night. From what James Sanderson and his team can deduce, the patient's frontal lobes and of course his magical abilities've also been affected – there's pressure on them, so I have to operate on both the spinal chord and frontal part of the brain this afternoon to see what we can salvage."

"Sounds bad – when did they let you know?"

"In the early hours." Hermione stretched, and failing to stifle a yawn, got up and wandered over to the window. "I had to drop Aurora off at Mrs Weasley Weasley's – it was lucky she didn't kick up a fuss as she is apt to do some times."

"Oh come on, I think you're too hard on the child," Jane grinned. "I mean she's only four years old and kids that age don't know any better."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione shrugged. "Oh believe me, she knows exactly when to throw tantrums – I should know! Anyway, Mrs Weasley'll drop her off to nursery later on, so that's one thing less to worry about."

"You know, you're very lucky having so many people around to take care of her, and she's such a sweet little thing."

Hermione couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, I suppose she is. Is that post?"

"No, I've dealt with the post; these are letters for you to sign and oh, a memo from Harold Pinfold, asking you to attend a board meeting in which he wants to announce something or other. He didn't say what, but it must be important if he's brought the meeting forward two days." At Hermione's nonplussed look, the efficient secretary went on, "I accepted on your behalf as it sounded important. And Pinfold being the head of the hospital, it wouldn't be wise to annoy him."

"No, I suppose not, but honestly, why does he have to spring these meetings on us? I for one don't have the time to re-schedule appointments at a moment's notice - too much work. When is it?"

"This afternoon, at four."

"What? You're joking right?" At Jane's shake of the head, Hermione groaned and carried on, "I wish he'd give us more warning! How am I supposed to get there on time? Oh why could it not have been a little later? Well I don't know how long this operation'll take and I certainly don't intend to rush it so as to get to some boring board meeting chaired by Harold! And what's more, I'll tell him so!"

Before Jane could remonstrate, she strode determinedly over to the fireplace and grabbed up a pinch of glittering floo powder, throwing it into the fire. Kneeling down, she thrust her head into the emerald green flames and shouted "Harold Pinfold's office!" As her head flew through the intricate floo network, she fumed silently to herself. Then with a pop, her head appeared in its destination and she looked round.

At the pop, a man tall with thick sandy hair greying at the temples looked round. Seeing his visitor, he smiled and knelt down to talk to her.

"Ah Hermione, good morning, did you get my memo?"

"Yes thanks, Harold. Look, the reason I'm here is that I have an operation scheduled for 1 pm this afternoon and I don't know if I'll be free by four."

A slight frown appeared on the head of the hospital's brows and he asked, "An operation? But I got my secretary to check and according to your schedule you're free, aren't you?"

"No," Hermione shook her floating green-tinged head. "Emergency, James Sanderson's patient."

"What? The one who was brought in last night? But I was given to understand that James would use crystal magic to relieve the pressure on the brain and…"

"It didn't work. I'll have to operate if the man stands a chance of retaining both his life and magical abilities. He's been scheduled for this afternoon, so I can't attend the meeting."

There was a pause in which Harold frowned thoughtfully before coming to a decision. Then he said with a shrug, "Well, in that case, the meeting will have to be postponed until you've finished. I'll let the rest of the board know – no doubt they won't mind waiting for you! This meeting is very important as I have something to announce and it's imperative that this is sorted before next month's annual hospital conference."

"I suppose so, but surely…"

"Nonsense my dear, you have to be there." As though he had read her mind, and smiling at her bewildered look he went on, "Hermione, as Director of Magic and Muggle Integration, you have to be there. Don't worry; we'll wait for your op to be over. I am sure the others will understand when I explain why. Now calm down and good luck with the operation!"

Sensing the meeting was at an end, Hermione bad him farewell, and withdrew her head from the fire.

"No good, "she told Jane as she brushed soot off herself, "he won't let me off. Says they'll wait until I have finished the op, although how that'll go down with the other directors, I don't know."

"Oh I'm sure they won't mind," Jane handed the lint brush to Hermione, "After all, they were all in favour of your appointment two months' ago and it is a universal fact that as the youngest Healer to be appointed to the Board of Directors, you're well respected."

"Thanks for your faith in me," Hermione smiled, as she sat down at her desk once again. "I don't know how I would've managed without you this past year."

Jane returning her smile, also sat down, and eyed her thoughtfully. "Well, we make a good team – although I only knew you by reputation at Hogwarts, I'm glad I've had the chance to work with you."

Jane had been four years Hermione's junior at Hogwarts, and being in Hufflepuff, the two had not often met. They had now been working together for a year, after Hermione's last secretary had retired and Jane had applied for her job. As well as being an extremely efficient secretary, she and Hermione had become friends.

"Well, I'd better carry on if I want to be prepared in time for the operation. Could you send a copy of the points I need to bring up at the meeting to the board's secretary? Leave a copy of it on my desk."

XoXoXoXo

Hermione stood back from the operating table, as the Medi-witch behind her helped her take off her gown and mask. The man lying on the table was still unconscious, but she had managed to relieve the pressure on his brain, as well as mend the fracture in his spinal chord. She knew it had been a close call and wondered why people insisted on playing such dangerous sports as Quidditch. The man in front of her had fallen from his broomstick during a Quidditch match. Even as Hermione stood there, the theatre staff were returning the gleaming theatre to its pristine state, with deft waves of their wands. The trainee Healer and Medi-staff who had assisted all looked relieved, as they too, backed away from the table looking exhausted but triumphant.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Hermione saw that it was just ten past four. Turning, she gave final instructions to the Medi-wizard standing by the patient and left the room. Standing in the shower, she attempted to wash off the tiredness threatening to overcome her, but interrupted sleep the night before and four hours of intense concentration in the operating theatre, were taking their toll on her. If only she didn't have the meeting with the Board of Directors, she could go straight home and spend some time with Aurora.

Sighing resignedly, she stepped out of the shower and dressed hastily in muggle clothes, since technically she was no longer on duty. Straightening her knee length black skirt and white blouse, she hurried from the changing room into her office. There, she collected her notes for the meeting, glanced in the mirror to ensure her tights had no ladders and grabbing up a pinch of floo powder, threw it into the still glowing fire. Stepping in, she called "Hanwell's Conference Room" and a moment later stepped out into the plush carpeted conference room, where she saw to her dismay, the rest of the Directors were already congregated.

"Ah Hermione, excellent! Operation go ok?" Harold Pinfold asked in greeting, from where he sat at the head of the oval conference table.

"Yes thank you, we managed to save him," Hermione replied, taking her seat. Looking up, she caught the eye of James Sanderson, who smiled at her from across the table.

The other Directors too, were smiling, and James said, "Well done – that was a close call. When the crystal spells didn't work, I thought he wouldn't survive. You were my last hope!"

"Well, Hanwell's _is_ noted for its excellent staff," Harold nodded, beaming around at the assembled company, "Now, to get back to the meeting, I brought this meeting forward two days for a good reason." He smiled and went on, "As you all know, Edward," here he directed a glance at a stooped wizard sitting on his right, "has decided to retire at the end of next week. You will all be pleased to know that Edward and I have finally found a replacement for his position!" There was a pause as he gazed at the people sitting round the table, all wearing expressions of interest on their faces, some even leaning forward in their chairs, "I would like to announce that from the start of the week after next, the position of Director of Finance will be filled by Draco Malfoy, who has kindly agreed to join the hospital board!"

There was a collective gasp round the room as everyone stared at Harold and Edward.

Hermione, like the rest of the Directors was gaping at the chairman, speechless. Draco Malfoy? No, it couldn't be! Her brain reeled at the news as the memory of the last time they had met flashed vividly in her mind.

She remembered all too clearly the night they had last seen each other; the night that Malfoy had slipped a potion which would lower her defences into her drink and how he had taken advantage of that compliance, the result of which, nine months later, had been Aurora. Whilst Aurora had been an unexpected gift, one that she would never give up for the world, the circumstances around her conception still caused Hermione to burn with white-hot anger.

The sound of James' voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Draco Malfoy? Surely not the Malfoy heir who's been in America for the past few years?"

"Yes, the very one," Harold beamed back, "he's only just returned to Britain and has accepted this position. He is supposed to be a real whiz with numbers, so I think and Edward agrees, he will do admirably in this post."

"Oh yes," agreed the reedy voice of Edward, who was so old, his face was a mass of wrinkles, "the young man is very good with corporate finance – you just need to look at his business interests to see that. I will be able to retire peacefully, knowing the hospital's finances are in good hands!"

"But," Hermione objected, "He knows nothing of hospitals and how they work!"

"He'll learn. Besides, the important thing for his job scope is being good with numbers; I'm sure we aren't going to ask him to double up on Medi-wizardry, are we?" Harold joked, while the other Directors chuckled at the thought. "Anyway, Malfoy has a good head on his shoulders, and that's what matters," Harold smiled at Hermione, who remained solemn, not participating in the laughter. "I mean, that's why he was so long in America; his business interests took a massive plunge a few years back and he had to go out there personally to sort it all out."

"Well, I for one think he'll do a good job," piped up Isabel Winterton, a tall stately witch in her mid-fifties with dark piercing eyes. "Yes, I approve of your choice Harold, the hospital can always use a fresh infusion of new blood; and, if I recall correctly, he's roughly Hermione's age."

This last remarked was delivered with a cool smile in Hermione's direction. Hermione glared at Isabel from beneath her lashes. The two ladies, although tolerant of each other, had never got on well, and she tried to avoid the other woman as much as possible.

"That's right, we were in the same year at Hogwarts," she responded trying to keep the sneer out of her voice. "to cut a long story short, we didn't get on. He had some… shall we say, antiquated values, which I believe he still holds."

There was an uncomfortable silence following Hermione's revelation and then Harold, attempting to lighten the atmosphere commented, "Well, we all do odd things as teenagers. No doubt he's grown up in the last few years. Regardless of whatever his personal wishes and values, as long as he makes a good job of directing our finances, I think that's more important. Now to move on…"

The rest of the meeting got under way, and each Director gave a report of what had been happening in his or her field of responsibility over the last two months. Hermione sat, her hands clenched in her lap, worry flooding through her. She took a couple of deep breaths and tried to keep calm by reasoning with herself. It would be unlikely that Malfoy would want to be reminded of their last encounter, and she would see him eight times a year at most. It would not be difficult to avoid him in meetings, and as for Aurora, she shrugged, there was no need for him to ever know of her existence – for even if he did find out she had a child, Aurora could be anyone's for all he knew. She breathed more easily, having come to this logical conclusion and sat back focusing once more on the meeting.

Finally, Harold turned to her and smiled. "Well Hermione, your turn. Tell us, what's been happening in the integration of muggle and magical medicine? And oh, for the benefit of those who haven't read your last paper, explain a little of the research you have been doing."

"Well," Hermione began, "my role is to encourage, as well as oversee the successful integration of both magical and muggle medicine. As you probably know, we were the first hospital to introduce muggle medicine and in certain cases, it's much better than magic. However, there still needs to be a lot of research done to see exactly how both strains can be made to work together. Following my research on the effective use of antibiotics when treating dragon pox, St Mungo's have asked that we run a course to train some of their Healers in muggle sterilisation techniques. I need to, of course, clear it with the board before agreeing to their request."

"Hmmm, a fantastic discovery," mused one director scratching his bald head, "I read about it in the Journal of Healing and Medi-Wizardry last month. Just to get the basics clear, antibiotics and bathing in saline solution would be a better remedy for dragon pox than the Alcas potion, which leaves the drinker itching all over for three weeks. Is that right?"

"That's basically it," Hermione concurred. "All our tests have shown that the muggle remedy's much better in terms of time as well as cost. The Alcas potion takes six weeks to brew and requires ingredients, which are becoming harder to find. Antibiotics can be reproduced by breeding certain bacteria, which isn't difficult to do in our own research laboratories, plus we can produce a lot of it at any one time."

XoXoXoXo

Hermione stood on the edge of the grounds of Hanwell's. In the distance, she could see the solid mass of the hospital, lights twinkling at its many windows and scurrying figures coming and going. She sighed and smiled tiredly; she had now worked at the hospital for five years, which she had to admit had been some of the happiest times of her life. Hanwell's was a converted country mansion set in its own grounds. The mansion was taken over by the Ministry of Magic when the Crouche family died out during Hermione's fourth year at Hogwarts.

Resisting a trip down memory lane, she turned and with a small pop, Disapparated to appear a moment later in the cosy and bright kitchen of the Burrow. She blinked as she looked around, the light momentarily dazzling her. Then, before she had time to speak, a small figure had thrown itself at her, squealing with delight.

"Mummy, Mummy, I was wondewing when you'd come. Auntie Ginny said you'd come soon but you didn't and I thought you'd be there all night."

Hermione looked down at her small daughter trying to climb into her arms. Aurora's chestnut ringlets were lying dishevelled over her face – the ribbon tying them back having been discarded. Her faced, like Hermione's, was heart-shaped with a small straight nose and deep set grey eyes, fringed by long curling lashes tipped with gold. Her skin was pale and she possessed a small fragile-looking frame. Aurora was smiling up at her, although Hermione noticed with a slight pang, that her lower lip had been on the point of trembling – no doubt tears hadn't been far from the little girl's eyes.

Putting her bag down, she pulled out a kitchen chair, and sat down, drawing Aurora onto her lap and hugging her fiercely.

"Slow down," she said, smiling at the little girl's exuberance. Aurora, winding her arms around her mother's neck was now smiling up at her. "Now, what were you saying?"

The child sighed, before repeating slowly in a patient voice, "I was saying, that Auntie Ginny said you were going to come back and get me, but you're late, and I thought you wouldn't come and I didn't want to stay here—"

"And why wouldn't you want to stay here?" Ginny asked from where she stood, stirring a pot over the fire, "We don't bite, you know!" She grinned at Hermione as she spoke, her face shining from the heat of the fire.

"No, but Fweddie isn't here, and I don't like sleeping without him! And anyway, he'll cwy if I'm not there, 'cause he'll be all alone."

"Freddie?" Ginny asked with interest.

"Freddie," Hermione explained to Ginny, "is Aurora's latest toy; a brown and white teddy bear. Well," she now addressed Aurora, "Auntie Ginny doesn't know about Freddy, so she won't know that he'll miss you if you aren't there. "

But Aurora was clearly not satisfied. "Well she should know about him," she grumbled. "I told her about him when I came back from school, and she said it was nice. Mummy, she was being bad, she wasn't listening! Remember, you said that people had to listen to each other, or it wasn't nice – bad Auntie Ginny!" This last sentence was accompanied by a pout and a glare aimed at Ginny, whom Hermione noticed had resolutely turned her back on them so they couldn't see her face. "I think we should send her to Coventwy for not listening when I was talking to her. That'll teach her not to be bad again!"

"Coventry," spluttered the redhead, "Why would I want to go to Coventry? I'm perfectly happy here thanks!"

"No silly," explained an exasperated Aurora, "when you go to Coventwy, it means I'm not going to talk to you – everyone knows that!"

Trying hard to stifle her own laughter, Hermione dropped a kiss on the child's hair and excused, "Well, I'm sure Auntie Ginny didn't mean to not listen; she was probably doing something else! Anyway, how do you know she wasn't listening – maybe she forgot that you'd told her about Freddie?"

"Oh, I know she wasn't listening," the little girl informed them airily, "'cause she was smiling at Uncle Hawy. And Mummy, they were holding hands under the table, and I saw them! Only childwen hold hands, not gwoan ups!"

"Hmmm, that's true," Hermione nodded at her daughter, trying to stifle a grin as she glanced at her friend whose back still faced them. Was that a blush high on Ginny's cheeks? She then addressed Ginny, deciding for the time being anyway, not to tease her, "Where's your mother?"

"She's nipped into the village for something," Ginny replied finally, turning to face them, "How did the op go then?"

"Oh fine – he survived, although it was tense for a while."

"I thought it'd be serious when you dropped madam off here," Ginny indicated Aurora, "at four this morning—"she was cut off by the arrival of Mrs Weasley who Apparated into the small room clutching a shopping bag.

"Really, the queue in that village shop! Oh hello Hermione dear, you'll be hungry. Ginny, fill a plate of stew for Hermione, she looks as though she needs it," Mrs Weasley sighed, as she sat down heavily at the scrubbed kitchen table.

Ginny bustled around filling a plate with piping hot stew and placing it in front of Hermione.

"Come here young lady," the older woman told Aurora, "Mummy's hungry. Come on, give me a cuddle and I'll tell you a story."

Obligingly, Aurora slid off Hermione's lap and trotted over to Mrs Weasley, who picked her up, settled her comfortably on her own lap, before starting a tale about a princess who lived in a big castle. Hermione let Mrs Weasley's voice drift over her as she worked her way through the plate of stew. Ginny came over to sit down beside her. Smiling, Hermione asked in a low voice, "So Harry came to visit did he?"

"Little wretch, Merlin, I swear she has eyes in the back of her head," Ginny muttered as she shot a fond look at Aurora, now curled up on Mrs Weasley's lap.

"Well, you shouldn't've been holding hands then, should you?" Hermione teased. "Anyway, how's the redecorating going?"

"It's in full swing. The flat looks like a tip at the moment – stuff everywhere! I'm glad I opted to stay here for a while rather than at the Golden Snitch – you know, that small hotel opposite the Three Broomsticks – with Harry."

"Yeah, redecorating's a tiring business at the best of times. How come Harry managed to get some time off?"

"Oh, his assignment was delayed for some reason, so he thought he'd pay me a visit," Ginny smiled.

They fell silent, each immersed in their own thoughts. Ginny and Harry had now been married for eight months. The flat they had been living in was in bad repair, so they had finally decided to have it redecorated. Hermione smiled as she recalled the arguments they had had when choosing colour schemes and furnishings; Ginny's Weasley temper and pregnant state, coupled with Harry's stubbornness, did not make for a good combination. Glancing over at Mrs Weasley, Hermione saw that Aurora had fallen asleep, her head pillowed on the older woman's shoulder.

"Oh good," Mrs Weasley said quietly, "I'm glad she's asleep, I need to talk to you Hermione!"

"Oh, is something wrong?" Hermione asked, her thoughts still on Ginny and Harry's tempestuous relationship.

"Well, let's put it this way," Mrs Weasley told her gravely, "I went to pick Aurora up from Nursery as usual, and her teacher told me that she had somehow up ended the nursery bin on a small boy who accidentally pushed her. Considering the bin's one of those metal ones which is four times as wide as Aurora, I doubt she has enough physical force in her to even push it!"

Hermione felt her heart sink; Aurora's unintentional use of magic seemed to be getting more frequent as she grew older. Her formidable temper was easily roused and when in full swing, often resulted in bursts of accidental magic, which while easily controlled at home, were becoming more of a problem in public. Mrs Weasley's voice broke into her thoughts and she looked into her worried eyes.

"Hermione, you'll have to enrol her into a nursery for magical children. The muggles are already suspicious of her and her teacher's tolerance of her is waning. Look, I know of a nursery run by Andromeda Tonks for magical children. Andromeda can keep an eye on her. Also, Aurora will be with children like herself; she'll enjoy it more. Besides, this isn't even taking into account the accidental magic side of things."

"Hermione," Ginny layed a hand on her arm. "you can't hide her from the wizarding world forever. Aurora's a powerful witch, so there's bound to be some accidental magic let loose some times. Anyway, it isn't safe for her – the International Statue of Secrecy and all that. The Ministry have already had to modify that teacher's memory twice, and Aurora's only four," She shot the brunette a speaking glance and Hermione knew that Ginny understood her real reasons for enrolling Aurora at a muggle nursery.

"I know, but—"she began. How could she explain to Mrs Weasley, her reasons for not wanting Aurora to enter the magical world before she had to? About her constant fear that Draco Malfoy would discover her daughter's existence and try to hurt her? How could she explain the worry that always lay like a lead weight at the back of her mind? And now that he was back from America…

She gulped and looked at the older woman. "Well, I suppose we don't really have any option, then. I mean, if only she didn't have such a temper, but I can't seem to stop the tantrums however strict I am with her."

"Oh, poor little thing!" Mrs Weasley cooed smiling fondly at the little girl in her arms. Then taking her eyes from Aurora's sleeping face, she once again fixed her intent gaze on Hermione, who sat miserably looking into her teacup as though hoping it would provide her with the answer to her problem.

"Hermione dear," she began hesitantly, and obviously choosing her words. "I've never asked you this, but Aurora's father… is he the reason you don't want her involved in the magical world more than she has to be?"

"Yeah, something like that," Hermione mumbled, "It's a bit complicated, but suffice to say, I would rather her not attend a magical nursery unless there's no alternative, and right now," she sighed gloomily, "it looks as though there's no other option."

"Well," Mrs Weasley responded, clearly uncomfortable. "let's put it this way; say for a moment that Aurora carries on at the nursery she's at right now. She gets older and the bursts of accidental magic become more frequent. At some point the ministry's going to have to get involved. So far we've been lucky in that your friend Ernie McMillan's been able to modify memories when the need has arisen, but at some point, he won't be able to cover up for Aurora's magic and the whole ministry'll get dragged in. Believe me, dear, there'll be a lot of publicity about the fact that such a young child's so powerfully magical and well," she looked awkward, "Aurora's father's bound to hear about it and…" she trailed off, and all three women sat staring at the surface of the table, their brows furrowed in thought.

Hermione admitted to herself that she had never considered this possibility and bit her lip as she wondered what to do. Mrs Weasley did indeed have a point, and knowing Draco Malfoy as she did, she was well aware that he had close ties with most of those in power at the Ministry. Of course, he would be one of the first to hear about it if Aurora carried on accidentally using magic in public. She sighed and massaged her aching temples in frustration.

Mrs Weasley tried again as she shifted Aurora's weight onto her other shoulder. "I know it's none of my business, but I'm very fond of Aurora and like yourself, I want only the best for her. Please don't think I'm prying, but would it be such a bad thing if her father were to know about her?"

"Yes, Mrs Weasley it would," Hermione sighed grimly, straightening and staring at the older woman across the expanse of table between them. "Please trust me on this one. He can't know about her, he just can't! And that's why I chose a muggle nursery rather than a magical one. But if, as you said—"

"Well," the older woman interrupted, adopting a business-like tone, "I know Andromeda Tonks very well, and if you'd like, I can speak to her about enrolling Aurora into her nursery."

"Hermione," Ginny said gently, "there's no other viable way. Aurora'll be safe there, and if she does accidentally do magic, it'll go unremarked since most of the children there will probably do some sort of accidental magic at one time or another."

"You're both right," Hermione agreed wearily, "Yes, Mrs Weasley if you could have a word with Andromeda Tonks, I'd be grateful. Now we'd better be getting home, I'm dead tired!"

XoXoXoXo

Hermione straightened from tucking Aurora into bed. She was tired and wanted nothing more than to go to bed herself. Checking that nothing was amiss in the room, she crept out leaving the door ajar. She decided that she would have a bath before bed; it may soothe and relax her a little. As she waited for the bath to fill, she pondered the happenings of the day, trying not to let worry cloud her logic and practical common sense. Climbing gratefully into the steaming bath, she groaned, allowing the hot water to slide over her, relaxing tense muscles, which ached with tension and tiredness. She leaned back, letting the lavender scented water wash the aches and pains away.

As her parents had predicted, it had not been easy being a single parent. Aurora, although possessing a sunny nature, could be precocious when it suited her, and Hermione had hoped that she would grow out of her bad tempers when she had started school. If anything, her tantrums had increased, and more frequently were accompanied by bursts of unintentional magic. It had been easy to tell Aurora that she didn't have a daddy when she had asked a few weeks ago, and as children do, she had simply accepted this answer. No doubt when she grew older it would be a different matter altogether, but Hermione decided she would worry about that problem when it arose. Only five people apart from herself knew who Aurora's father was; Ginny, Harry, Ron, and her parents. All had been sworn to secrecy, and she knew that they would rather die than break their promise and divulge this information.

Strange, she mused, she had not thought about Draco Malfoy in years. Certainly, he had always been at the back of her mind; a nameless worry, but she had not really thought of him as a person since Aurora was very small. She smiled as she remembered the hours she had spent when Aurora was a baby, gazing at her tiny child, trying to decide whether she looked more like herself or her father. Apart from inheriting his grey eyes, there was no other feature which Hermione could directly attribute to Malfoy, reducing the chances of Aurora being recognised for her true parentage.

'But now that he was back in Britain—' she shivered with apprehension. No, she reasoned with herself, he may be married; he might even have other children; and even if he were still single, he would surely have better things to do than take an interest in either her or her child.

Yawning tiredly, she clambered out of the now cold water. She dried herself, got into her nightgown and prepared for bed. Even if it killed her, she vowed to keep Aurora safe from that evil man. She smiled as she remembered her fears when she had been carrying her daughter – the fear that she may hate the child when it was born. How foolish she had been! As soon as the Medi-Witch had put a howling red-faced Aurora into her arms, Hermione had fallen in love with the helpless bundle and had not looked back since.

She climbed gratefully into bed and lay down. Whatever happened, she thought drowsily, she had a tight-knit network of people to fight for her and her daughter – more than could be said for many people she had heard of. There was no point in worrying before she had to, and with this comforting thought, she drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Draco Malfoy yawned, glowering down at the lists of figures lying on his desk. To call them a mess would be an understatement; by the looks of it Old Edward Hamersley hadn't been the wiz with figures as Harold Pinfold, the director of Hanwell's hospital, had lead Draco to believe. He tutted, as he looked down another column of figures – the amount of money that could have been saved if the old man had been able to add two and two! He shook his head. It was a wonder the hospital hadn't gone under.

He stretched his legs out and leaned back in his chair in an effort to loosen the knotted muscles in his back. He had been working on Hanwell's financial records for the last two hours, trying to put into order the chaotic mess that had been handed to him by a relieved looking Edward only a few days ago. He was due to take over the position of Finance Director in just over a week, but before that, he had to make some kind of sense of the mass of paperwork littering his desk.

Glancing up at the ornate wall-clock on the opposite wall, Draco smiled for the first time that day and getting up, he pushed the pile of papers away. For now, the work could wait; he had better things to do with his time! Smoothing down his hair, he put away the papers he had been perusing and with a flick of his wand tidied the office. Satisfied with the state of his office, he strode from the room, banging the door shut behind him.

As Draco strode down the empty corridor, he smiled once again at the thought of the afternoon that lay ahead of him. His footsteps rang loudly on the marble tiled floor but he was far too occupied to pay any attention to his surroundings. It was Thursday afternoon; the one afternoon in the week when he could shed his mantel of responsibility and the afternoon he spent at his Aunt Andromeda's nursery.

It had all started innocently enough, he mused as he walked, a few days after his arrival in Britain after his prolonged stay in America, his Aunt had flooed him to ask about his trip and enquire after family relations living in the States. On learning he was at a loose end the next day, she as she was wont to do, had persuaded him to come and spend the afternoon at her nursery, because one of her assistants had an errand to run. Grudgingly, he had obeyed, but oh what an afternoon it had been! He doubted that he had ever had as much fun in one month, as he had had that afternoon. Being covered in paint, taking part in a game of hide and seek, and being forced to crawl through a child's maze in search of treasure, were only some of the delightful things he had been forced to go through. But it hadn't just been the fun activities that had enchanted him; it had been those innocent little children, children to whom the name Malfoy meant very little, children who had accepted him without condemning or prejudging; it was the children that had totally captivated him. That was what he had loved most – the feeling of acceptance and being as one with the children in his care. Being liked for himself had been a new and wonderful feeling, and so he had gone back for more. He had readily agreed when his Aunt, after seeing all the children home, had asked if he would be returning next week.

Reaching the front doors, Draco pushed them open and was assailed by the warm balmy April air. Birdsong could be heard in the quiet of the grounds and a slight breeze ruffled the new leaves. Striding out into the warm sunshine, he reached the Apparition point only known to family and close friends. If he had been in less of a hurry, he would have taken time to admire the beauty of the grounds through which he strode, but his mind was with the children with whom he would be spending the afternoon. Thus, without a single look back at the house, he Disapparated.

A moment later, he reappeared outside a walled garden. A rose trellis could be seen climbing up one wall, covering the mellow red brick with a splash of colour.

Draco pushed open the small gate set into the wall, and a small whitewashed building came into sight. Walking quickly up the path, he pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped into the hall. This was painted a cheerful, gloom dispelling yellow. The sound of children voices could be heard coming from a door on his left.

At Draco's entrance, Andromeda Tonks bustled into the hall to meet him. Like all the Blacks, she was good looking, possessing a tall willowy figure with long dark brown hair pinned up at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were blue, like those of Draco's mother, and she possessed a shrewd look, which had often made him squirm in his youth. Now however, she was smiling, a smudge of paint on her cheek.

"Ah, just the person I need!" she exclaimed, coming forward and hugging him, "Come on then, the children were wondering where you were!"

"I'm not late, am I?" he asked, taking a quick peek at his watch.

"Oh no, you're just in time for the afternoon story – they had the paddling pool out this morning, so they're all pretty shattered!" she smiled, leading the way into the large spacious nursery. Here, pictures of cartoon characters, both muggle and magical, waved down at him, while toys of every description littered the floor and were stacked up in piles against the walls.

"Look who it is children!" Andromeda announced, as she entered the Nursery ahead of Draco. Immediately, several inquisitive faces turned to peer at the person behind her. Before Draco could so much as open his mouth, there were cries of "Uncle!" and small bodies hurled themselves at him from every direction.

"I'll leave you to it then!" grinned his aunt, picking her way through the clamouring children, to scoop up some Lego bricks lying abandoned on the floor.

Draco returned her grin and squatting, pulled all the children he could reach into a hug. The next few minutes were spent in listening to the children's ecstatic cries at seeing him, and hugging each child in turn. He always loved doing this; being wanted for himself and not for the money he could provide. He looked at the eager faces turned up to his, and a feeling of warmth washed over him. He knew each one of these children well, having spent time getting to know them.

After a while, the cries of delight finally died down and he was able to look around the room. His eyes alighted on a small figure standing well back and watching him speculatively. He had never seen this child before and supposed she was new to the nursery. As he watched, she turned away from him and a curious feeling of disappointment washed over him. Shrugging, he turned back to the children surrounding him and smiling down at them, he suggested reading them a story. As he had hoped, this suggestion was met with eagerness, so they all made their way over to the comfortable pile of cushions in one corner, set aside for this purpose.

Draco seated himself on the comfortable chair reserved for the story teller and waited while the children settled themselves around him.

"Aurora darling," Andromeda smiled, going over to the small girl Draco didn't know. "Would you like to sit on Uncle's lap while he reads the story?" The child eyed Draco, then nodded.

"OK," she agreed getting up from her cushion and approaching Draco.

"Aurora," Andromeda explained, smiling fondly down at the small girl, "is new here. She only started on Monday."

Draco smiled at both his Aunt and the girl, then reached forward to pick up the small figure, settling her against him.

"Hello," he greeted, giving the child on his lap his most charming smile, "Aurora… now that is a pretty name!"

The child, ignoring his attempt at friendship, leaned over him and picked up a well-worn book from the table beside him and handed it to him.

"I think we should wead this one," she stated calmly. Around her, there were nods of assent from the other children, all of whom sat watching him expectantly, waiting for him to start the story. He sighed, and opening the book began to read, while his mind wandered.

He studied the face of the child on his lap; her gaze as those of her peers, was riveted on the moving pictures of the story book, so he couldn't see her eyes. Her chestnut ringlets were tied back in a blue ribbon which matched the top and jeans she was wearing. She was a pretty child, there was no doubt of that, and there was a certain appeal in the cool way she had assessed him.

He felt a twinge of something akin to jealousy go through him, and tightened his grip on the battered story book open on Aurora's lap. Her parents didn't know how lucky they were for having such a sweet child – if only he had been so lucky! Money, he thought cynically, couldn't buy you everything as people claimed. He wondered who the child's parents were and made a mental note to ask his Aunt that afternoon.

The sound of a child fidgeting brought his attention back to the group around him. Finishing the story, he waited as the children all got to their feet, preparing to resume their earlier activities. His arm tightened on the child trying to climb off his lap and with the other hand, he tipped her face upwards and stared into her eyes.

"They're grey!" he exclaimed in surprise.

"And so are those of twenty percent of the population," Andromeda said with a smile in her voice, from beside him. "Put her down now, dear." Reluctantly, Draco put the squirming Aurora down and she scampered off to join Jenny Finnegan at the sand pit.

"But aunt, grey eyes are the Malfoy Line Trait, they're…" he began, only to be cut off by an impatient Andromeda.

"Don't be daft, lots of people have grey eyes, you're reading too much into it, that's all."

Draco felt an unexplainable disappointment take hold of him and nodded.

"Sweet little thing," Andromeda mused, watching Aurora and Jenny thoughtfully, "but apparently she has a formidable temper when roused."

"Yeah she is," Draco agreed, watching the two children playing with the sand, "how come I've only just heard of her? I mean, 'Aurora' isn't a name you come across every day."

Andromeda shrugged, "Merlin knows. Her mother preferred that she go to a muggle nursery, but there were too many bursts of accidental magic and the muggles started asking questions – you know what they're like."

"Oh, speaking of her parents, I meant to ask," Draco began, but in that instant, a loud wail filled the room. Both Andromeda and her nephew hurried over to the opposite end of the room where Alex Zabini, a pale thin child, was yelling at the top of his voice. Secretly, Draco had never liked Alex, finding him querulous and tiresome to deal with. Living his aunt to deal with the howling child, he turned, scanning the room and finally spotting what he was looking for. Aurora was standing beside Jenny, and both were engrossed in making what looked like a sand castle. He made his way over to them and watched avidly as the two girls emptied buckets of sand to make what looked like the main part of the building.

"I fink we should've a moat," Jenny said, frowning down at the castle, "My daddy says there's always a moat in castles."

Aurora also looked down at the castle, and Draco noticed that the hair ribbon had been discarded, leaving her ringlets to fall haphazardly into her eyes – Merlin she looked cute!

"Hmmm, but the pwoblem is, a moat's always on the outside of the castle and then we'd also need a dwaw bwidge for people to walk over. "

"Well, let's get some water and put it round the castle and we can make the bridge to go over it, but if anyone comes that we don't like, we can put the bridge up so they can't cross it," Jenny suggested in her practical way.

Draco had to bite back a laugh at the architectural discussion going on, and now intervened. "Jenny, I don't think water would be a good idea," he began, only to be met by a glare from both girls.

"Well, how d'you expect us to make a moat then?" Aurora questioned, thrusting out her chin in defiance.

"Well, why don't you pretend?" Draco suggested, to be cut off with a snort from Aurora, who pushed back her hair with one grimy hand and informed him haughtily,

"Look, we aren't babies that we have to pwetend you know, I'm four now and so's Jenny! Go and play with someone else, if you're just going to be silly and get in the way!"

"Yeah," agreed an equally annoyed Jenny, "go away and play with someone else – we don't want your help."

Draco stared at the two girls biting back a grin; clearly, he had said the wrong thing and so tried again, "Well then, young ladies, how about if I make the drawbridge for you, and Jenny – can you get the water for the moat?" He waited for a reaction but when it came, it surprised him.

"What? So you're going to play with us?" A none-too-pleased Aurora frowned, "But we don't want you to play with us, we want to play by ourselves!"

She turned away, while Jenny yawned. Losing interest in the game, Jenny wandered off; she was clearly tired and didn't feel up to an argument. Aurora too stifled a yawn and then to Draco's surprise demanded, "I want Mummy, where is she?"

"Err," Draco began, not knowing what to do next, but the child took the decision out of his hands.

"Auntie!" she yelled, and Andromeda came over, "I want Mummy, where is she?"

Andromeda scooped her up and sighed resignedly, as she brushed sand from Aurora's cheeks. "Darling, mummy's at work remember?" Behind Andromeda, there was a crash and she wheeled round.

"Here, I'll take Aurora," Draco volunteered taking the small figure from Andromeda's arms.

"Thanks," she smiled gratefully, "she's tired – just read her a story or something, and she'll drop off." Then she mouthed, "Just don't mention her family or there'll be tears!"

Draco nodded and carried the girl over to the chair he had been sitting in earlier. Sitting down, he drew Aurora's head on to his shoulder and picked up a book.

"I don't want a stowy," she sniffed, looking up at him through sleepy eyes.

"OK, then what would you like to do?"

Instead of answering his question, she posed one of her own, "What's your name?"

"Uncle," he replied promptly.

"Uncle what? Uncles always have names – I mean I have lots of uncles and they all have diffewent names."

Draco frowned, for a moment he was tempted to tell her his real name, but an instinct he could not name stopped him; what if she went home and told her parents about him? It was not likely, but her parents may not appreciate Draco Malfoy spending time with their child – it was possible however remotely, that they belonged to the handful of fools who still viewed him with suspicion. No, it was better to hide his identity for a while. Also, seven years in Slytherin had taken their toll on him, and caution was now second nature to him. He would give her a false name just to be safe. He cast around for a name he could use and then his maternal Grandfather's name, Maximus, popped into his head – that would do.

"Uncle Maximus," He responded smiling, "Max for short."

Aurora seemed content with this and yawned loudly.

"We were swimming this morning," she began sleepily, "why weren't you there?"

"I was working, angel," he replied, resisting the urge to bury his face in her curls. The feeling of a deep paternal longing was growing within him and he cursed inwardly.

No one knew how much he craved a family of his own, children such as this one who would love him unconditionally and a wife who would… he sighed, and with an effort he reined in his thoughts. No, he couldn't think about that, he couldn't. He focused once more on the sweet sleepy face upturned to his; did her parents know how lucky they were to have such a lovely, beautiful, and intelligent child? He bet they had no idea. He enjoyed playing with all the children here – well, maybe not the Zabini brat, but this one, this cherub in his arms… there was something about her, something that seemed to tug at his very soul. She was the epitome of what he would want his own child to look like – beautiful and spirited.

He scowled, giving into the thoughts badgering at him. If only his own attempt at procreation a few years back had worked – perhaps he should have added a fertility potion to the other one, when he had put it into her her drink, that would have done the trick – but at the time he had been so sure it was her time of the month to conceive. The tests he had surreptitiously cast had indicated so, and he had checked and double-checked before he had instigated his plan. Damn the woman! Trust her to mess things up! If his plan had worked, he thought sourly, not only would he have her for his wife, he would also at least have one child with her by now.

Aurora's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he smiled down at her.

"Sorry Angel, what were you saying?"

"I wanted to know what you were thinking about. You were fwowning. Mummy always does that when she thinks about things," said the ever-curious Aurora.

"Oh, I wasn't thinking about much," he hedged, "just this and that."

"That's what Mummy and Gwan say when they don't want me to ask questions, when they're thinking about something important," she replied shrewdly. His eyes widened in surprise but an idea slid into his mind. She had been the one to mention her family and not him – surely if he asked her a few questions, she would not get upset?

"Angel," he began tentatively, "what is your surname?"

"What?" she asked, a frown drawing her brows together.

"Your surname princess, your last name."

Aurora felt tired, and so didn't relish being asked tedious questions by someone who would surely know her last name! Anyway, she felt angry at this man for interrupting her game with Jenny – serve him right if she was difficult! She was in her what Ron Weasley termed her 'play dumb' mood, where she would refuse to answer the questions when she knew the answer full well. It was a mood that was guaranteed to make her mother exasperated and lose her temper, but Draco Malfoy was unaware of this as he sat trying to cajole information from a child, who through the efforts of her uncles Fred and George, as well as her own genetic make-up, knew all about the art of obfuscation.

"It's Auwowa, you know that!" she smiled looking up at him guilelessly. Draco sighed; this wasn't as easy as he had supposed so he tried another tack.

"OK then, so tell me, what is mummy's name? You know the answer to that don't you, Angel?"

"Oh yes, that's easy," Aurora beamed. Draco returned her smile in anticipation. "Mummy's name is Mummy!"

"No darling," he took a deep breath. "What I meant was, what do other people, your grandparents for example, call her?"

"They call her 'your Mummy' or sometimes just 'Mummy'," the child answered, innocently swinging one trainer-clad foot back and forth, as she fiddled with the signet ring on Draco's right hand.

He closed his eyes – Merlin give him patience, she was too bright not to know what he was talking about, so why was she doing this? But he was not done yet; smiling, he asked now, "Darling, what is your full name? Aurora, and then what?"

For a moment, she looked non-plussed and his hopes rose; maybe now he would hear what he wanted to. Then she perked up and said sweetly, "It's Auwowa Elisabeth, but people just call me Auwowa, as Auwowa Elisabeth's too long, and Mummy says it's a mouthful!"

Draco Malfoy didn't know whether to scream with frustration or ruffle the girl's curls. She was certainly playing a game with him –one he had played more times than he cared to remember as a child and even now, indulged in when the mood took him. The instant Aurora took time to figure out how to conceal her last name from him, he had realised what she was doing. Nonetheless, frustration won out, for he was too used to getting his own way in things, and could count on one hand the number of times he had felt like this, and this was without doubt one of them. He gritted his teeth in annoyance – a four year-old had got the better of him – but how? He looked down at the innocent face of this child, the eyes fringed by long thick curling lashes, the mouth smiling so sweetly at him and for the time being, conceded defeat and allowed some of that admiration to peek through. He would be damned if he would let this little oh so adorable chit get the better of him, but Draco was a patient man – there would be other times for him to best her!

Changing the subject, he asked, "So, you're new here, but why did you leave your old nursery?"

Aurora sighed and a look of sadness crossed her face, making him regret his choice of subject. Before he could divert her attention however, she answered, "Don't know… Mummy wanted me to change schools so I did."

"And what about your Daddy, what did he want?"

"Daddy's dead," came the matter-of-fact reply, "he died in the war."

Draco felt sympathy surged through him; poor little thing, fatherless at such a young age. Involuntarily, he tightened his grip on her, the ache within him becoming more intense. He supposed that the father had died in the war against Voldemort, almost three years ago now. Many witches and wizards had died in the struggle, which had finally been won by the Light side. Of course, Harry Potter himself had killed Voldemort. Draco's mouth twisted in a derisive sneer at the thought of his archenemy – even now the name brought a horrid taste into his mouth. Damn heroic Potter and his bloody sidekicks, especially Her!

"Everything OK here?" his aunt's voice broke into his musings, and he looked up to find her gazing down at them, a speculative look in her eyes, "You seemed very far away. Are you ok?"

"Fine," Draco answered, shifting the now dozing Aurora into a more comfortable position on his shoulder.

"Well, it's time this lot were shipped off home," Andromeda smiled, looking relieved, "I must say, today has been an especially hard day for the kids, even by my standards." She bent down and gently removed Aurora from Draco's arms, and tucked a strand of stray curls behind her ear.

"Are you sure you're all right? You look as though you've lost a galleon and found a knut."

"I'm fine!" Draco repeated with a roll of his eyes. He looked down at the face of the child in Andromeda's arms, "I'm just a bit tired; Hanwell's finances are in a mess to put it mildly, and I've been trying to sort them out the whole morning."

"Fair enough," his aunt replied, but he knew she didn't believe him. She had always had a knack of reading him accurately, and now he was willing to bet twenty galleons she knew how he was feeling.

"Look, why don't you go into the house and wait for me there? Hanty will have tea ready, and I don't know about you, but I could surely use a cup. Anyway, Nymphadora said she'd come round this afternoon, and you look as though you could do with some cheering up," she changed the subject.

Hanty was the Tonks' house-elf; she was small with huge bat-like ears and a long pencil nose. Draco suspected that she was a relative of Doby, one of their old house-elves which had been freed. He got to his feet and nodding, glanced one last time round the room. The three girls who helped Andromeda in the Nursery were all busy getting the children ready to go home. He made his way through the bustle of activity, through the hall and outside into the warm spring air.

He wanted to escape before the parents descended on the nursery. He hated inquisitive parents - especially the mothers! The simpering smiles or confidential advice he was subjected to, were often enough to stretch his nerves to breaking point. The advice they imparted was invariably along the lines of "It's time you settled down and had a brood of children of your own!" or "I know of a nice young lady…"

No, he did not need that kind of useless advice.

Taking a quick glance around, he Disapparated just as the first of the parents arrived to collect their offspring.

XoXoXoXo

Draco looked at the cottage standing before him. It was the perfect country cottage – it even had roses growing outside the front door. He had always loved this place as a child, and this love had not diminished over the years. Smiling slightly, he gazed round him fondly and then walking swiftly up the front path pushed open the white painted front doors.

The hall looked dark after the bright afternoon sunlight. For a moment Draco stood quite still, as he frantically tried to make out the hall before him. Gradually however, his eyes focused and he looked round. The hall was littered with family apparel… and what looked like two long narrow planks of wood had been placed haphazardly against one wall, while huge boots the likes of which Draco had never seen, lay beside them. A thick jacket had been slung carelessly over the hall table, pushing the pot plant standing on the table right to the edge. Clearly, his uncle Ted had been home at some point!

Draco, grinning, moved to pull the jacket from the table and draped it over one of the long pieces of wood which he now saw had odd clamp-like thing protruding from one side of it. The thing looked like a muggle torture instrument, and after regarding it suspiciously for a moment, he picked his way over to the door of the sitting room, which stood slightly ajar. He would wait for his Aunt in here, he decided, walking over to the window and gazing out at the small and neatly kept garden.

Fifteen minutes later, he was seated opposite his Aunt, a cup of steaming coffee on the table beside him. Andromeda yawned and stretched. Draco could not help but feel relaxed in her company; he supposed the house too, contributed to the atmosphere of peace and tranquillity in which he was now surrounded.

Leaning forward, he asked curiously, "What are those long thin pieces of wood in the hallway? Surely it isn't firewood?"

"Oh no," said Andromeda chuckling, "they're what Ted calls 'skis' and those ugly old boots beside them are 'ski boots'. You put the boots on first, and then step on to the skis, which clamp onto the boots. Skiing's a muggle sport – something to do with sliding down mountains – I'm not quite sure what!" she shuddered, "Give me a good Quidditch match any day, but Ted seems to enjoy skiing."

"Sounds insane – sliding down mountains!" Draco muttered, helping himself to a large slice of cream cake.

"I sometimes think I'm getting too old to run a nursery – those children really took a great deal out of me today," his aunt continued, smiling ruefully.

"But you're so good at it," Draco pointed out, "I mean this is the best nursery for magical children there is, so surely that must say something? Why don't you get another assistant?"

"No, I don't think so," she shook her head, then smiled enigmatically. "Anyway, we're not here to talk about me, it's you I want to discuss!"

Draco sighed again, to tell his Aunt to mind her own business or words to that effect, had never had any effect on her, and he strongly doubted today would be any different. Oh well, best to get the interrogation over with. He took a sip of his coffee and waited for the inquisition to start.

"So, what's the matter?" Andromeda came to the point – she didn't believe in beating about the bush, preferring instead to cut to the chase.

"I told you – nothing—"

"Draco," she interrupted with a glare, "I've known you for over twenty-five years now, so don't you dare sit there and tell me glibly that there's nothing the matter." She smiled to take the sting from her words and carried on more gently, "You looked positively miserable today. Why? What's happened to make you look like that?"

Draco stared down into his coffee cup wondering what to tell her. How could he tell her the truth? No, he would have to make something up and sharpish; "Oh just this and that, you know what it's like," he shrugged, "it's just been one of those days. I spent over four hours trying to unravel the mess that Hanwell's finances are in. Surely that's enough to give anyone a fit of depression," he grimaced.

"I see," Andromeda replied thoughtfully. "Then maybe you'd care to explain why you looked so glum when I took Aurora from you awhile back?"

"The answer to that," Draco responded, keeping his eyes on his coffee cup, "is I really don't know." He sighed, and looked out of the window to avoid his Aunt's eyes.

"Draco," Andromeda began, leaning forward slightly, "I'm not trying to pry. Honestly. I'm simply worried about you. Something about that child really got to you, but I don't know what. I mean she's a normal four-year-old, with a four-year-old's propensity for tantrums and so on, so why did she have the power to make you look so miserable?"

Draco knew that anything less than the truth would be an insult to his Aunt. She was one of the only two people throughout his life who had been there for him unconditionally and had only ever worried about his welfare. Family status and so on meant nothing to her, and for this, he was immensely grateful. With her, he didn't have to worry about what he said and the kinds of opinions he expressed. Marriage to a muggle-born had certainly broadened her way of thinking – not that she had adhered to the principles indoctrinated into her throughout her childhood.

"I don't know," he repeated and then picking his words carefully, added, "She was… well, she's what I would want my own child to look like if ever I had one. I mean, there was just something about her… well, some of her characteristics… she just reminded me of myself… but how can that be? I mean—" he broke off, not knowing how to finish. He looked down at his right hand, clutching the coffee cup as though it were a lifeline.

"Aurora's a sweet child – there's no doubt about that," his Aunt agreed in a quiet voice. "But Draco, you're reading too much into it. I hate to sound unkind, but I suspect your own longing for children's making you see similarities where there are none."

Draco scowled. What did his Aunt know about anything? She was starting to sound like all those damned mothers, intent on ordering his life for him and he didn't appreciate it.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he began, only to be cut off by a now seething Andromeda who had clearly lost her patience with him.

"No, maybe not, but I've a damned good idea what's going on, and it's high time you listened to me! I don't know much about your past or the girls you were seeing before you had to leave for America, but I'm not blind, Draco! I could tell a great deal simply from observing you! There was a girl – I haven't the faintest idea who, but there was a girl for whom you cared deeply. Otherwise, why would you be indifferent to all those girls Narcissa tried to introduce you to? Each and every one of them you rejected for one reason or another – and each was a lovely girl. It was as though you already knew what you wanted and none of them was her. Do you know? There was even a period when Narcissa actually believed that… she actually believed that… you swung the other way."

Draco gaped and felt the colour tinge his cheeks. Damn his Aunt and mother for discussing him like this! He could just imagine his horrified mother ranting about his supposed interest in his own sex, when he hadn't taken any interest in the girls she had insisted upon parading before him.

Smiling slightly at his embarrassment, Andromeda went on, "As I said, I watched you and to me you didn't look like someone indifferent to women, but someone whose heart had already been given. Well, a few weeks before you left for America, you began to look positively gleeful and I hoped that maybe at last, we'd get to meet the young lady in question. You were quite cheerful when you left for America, but within the first few months of your being there, that cheerful optimism began to fade, to be replaced by an intense bitterness… and that's how you've remained ever since."

"Your powers of observation are truly amazing!" Draco sneered. He felt slightly sick; how had she known? He had thought at the time that his feelings had been well hidden, but this was obviously not the case! What else had she deduced just by observation?

"Stop sneering, it does nothing for you and will give you wrinkles before your time – I'm sure Narcissa's told you that," she simply brushed off her nephew's sarcasm.

He didn't stop sneering; he knew it was childish of him, but pride demanded his aunt didn't see how close she was to the truth.

"Draco, listen to me. It's time you let your past rest and look forward. You've your whole life ahead of you to think of. I mean look at Narcissa! She's put her past behind her and has made a new life for herself – it's high time you did the same too."

"Well, you really can't compare me to Mother!"

"And why not? Your father died when you were only seventeen and she was left alone to bring you up – no easy task I assure you. I'm glad she's found happiness in America. Her second marriage's doing her the world of good, as well you know!"

"But that's different! I mean Father actually died, which is different to what I experienced."

"Oh? How so?" Andromeda's gaze sharpened with interest.

"Well," Draco Hedged wishing heartily that he had kept his mouth shut. "Well…she and I were never really together, we didn't really get on, at least she didn't so..."

"So am I right to say your young lady's still out there for the taking?" andromeda asked cutting off his disjointed explanation.

"Well," Draco evaded, "I'm not sure, I suppose so, but—"

"Then what are you waiting for? Go out there and win her over! You still might have a chance – otherwise someone else may get there first and you'll live to regret it. If she's worth all that much to you, I'm sure that she'll come round to your way of thinking with a bit of persuasion. No doubt she'll have no lack of admirers – and you've wasted enough time, Draco. Stop moping around and get moving."

"No, you don't understand, it isn't as simple as that – there are other factors—" Draco tried in vain to explain, but Andromeda wasn't having any of it.

"You said it yourself, you don't think she's married, so what's the problem? A long-term relationship? But that isn't as though she were married, is it? You won't know if she's committed to anyone unless you find out, will you? But besides that, what else could be the problem?"

"Well, it's complicated, you see—" Draco was now squirming, and very much wishing that he had stayed at the office sorting Hanwell's finances, rather than face his Aunt's brand of logic. "We have a history! Look, we have problems you can know nothing about!" he finally snapped glowering.

There was a pause in which Andromeda watched him over the rim of her cup, and then she said, "OK then, so be it. You have other problems, fine! You know, I thought you had more gumption than to give in after only one try – clearly I was wrong!"

XoXoXoXo

It was late evening, and Draco sat in the rose garden of Malfoy Manner enjoying the last of the light. He leaned back on his bench savouring the silence. In the distance, a lone bird chirped unseen in an oak tree, while the fragrance of early spring flowers filled the air. The light was quickly fading, leaving a red sky in its wake.

This was one of the times of day Draco loved best, the time when day and night switched over. Sunrise and sunset, he mused, were the best parts of any day. His mind went back to the talk he had had that afternoon with his Aunt, and fragments of her advice reverberated loudly in his head; "If she's worth all that much to you … she'll have no lack of admirers – and you've wasted enough time, Draco. Stop moping around and get moving."

It was all very well for his Aunt to talk, he mused, but she didn't know how things stood. He clenched his fists at her last accusation – she had practically called him a coward, but what did she know? Nonetheless, his Aunt did have one point; what if she was married or in a relationship? Immediately, he jumped up, jealousy coursing through him; no she wouldn't be, she couldn't, his Aunt was right – it was high time to take action! The problem was that he didn't know if she was still single. Five years, he reflected, was a very long time. Anything could have happen in that period of time – but how would he know he hadn't a chance if he didn't try?

Draco sat down, a spark of hope entering his heart; what if she was still single? There was still that possibility after all. In fact, knowing her, it might even be probable. What did he have to lose? His Aunt was right – it was time he left the past behind him and looked towards the future. Moreover, there was the Malfoy lineage to consider; he needed an heir to carry on the name and he certainly wasn't going to get one of those by sitting around ogling other people's children. No, it was high time he took his future into his own hands – and by Merlin, even if it killed him, he would yet get what he wanted! That would show his Aunt what he was made of, and stop him from caring for children such as aurora – dam it, he still didn't know the girl's last name!

Thus resolved, he strode off towards the house, as night fell over the peaceful gardens.


	4. Chapter 3

Authors Note: Woe, another chapter done. As ever refer to the prologue for the disclaimer, and thanks to my betas for making this readable. Please keep the reviews coming in to let me know what you think. I found this chapter especially difficult to write, so would really like to know what you all thought of it.

Chapter Three

Hermione looked over the rim of the Journal of Healing and Medi-wizardry she was trying to read, at the small figure of her daughter sprawled on a cushion in front of the television. Aurora's eyes were glued to the screen on which the Shiny Show was in full swing and she was hugging Freddie, her favourite teddy bear, while absentmindedly chewing one of its ears. One fluffy slipper clad foot was wiggling in time to the music, and Hermione smiled indulgently.

She yawned and getting up, stretched her weary muscles; it had been a long day and she was glad to be home. Thursdays, she reflected, were the most exhausting day of the week, what with working at the outpatient clinic all day, followed by the usual departmental meeting in which _at least_ one person would complain about another. It was no wonder that she was always glad to reach the peace of her flat by the day's end. Human interactions, she mused, were strange and very complex things, indeed.

With relief, Hermione saw that the Shiny Show was coming to an end; the characters were waving good-bye, and Aurora was stretching contentedly.

"Bed time," Hermione smiled, stooping and picking Aurora up, "come on, you've been up long enough!"

These words were met with a yawn from Aurora, who smiled sleepily and said, "I wish they put the Shiny Show on all the time, it's my favouwite, you know. Mummy, why don't they put it on more?"

"Because," Hermione answered, "not everyone likes the Shiny Show as much as you do. So to make it fair, they put a bit of everything on."

Pouting, Aurora sighed; clearly this was not a good enough reason, and she persisted, "But why doesn't everyone like it – I do, so why don't other people?"

"I don't know," Hermione shrugged, not feeling up to one of Aurora's lengthy questioning sessions. Aurora didn't respond, but lay her head on her mother's shoulder; clearly, the reasoning of grown-ups was beyond her.

Carrying a drowsy Aurora into her room, Hermione was just about to tuck her into bed, when the sound of the doorbell made them both jump. Aurora's eyes flew open and she stared wildly round, blinking in the dim light of the bedroom.

Hermione scowled, and pulling the duvet over a protesting Aurora, turned and went quickly from the room, frowning. Casting a revealing charm on the front door, she saw Ron lounging against the wall of the hallway, one foot tapping impatiently as he made to raise his hand once more to ring the bell. Before he could do so however, Hermione had flung open the door and was smiling in greeting.

"Blimey Hermione, it took you long enough to answer," Ron grumbled as he entered the quiet flat.

"Keep your voice down," Hermione hissed, as she shut and warded the door, "if Aurora hears you, she'll never go to sleep. Go into the sitting room – I'll be with you in a bit." She went back into Aurora's room to see that a very tired Aurora had fallen asleep. Hermione's heart contracted with love, as she looked down at the sleeping figure of her daughter, and bending down, she straightened the duvet and kissed the sleeping child. As quietly as she could, she left the room leaving the door ajar.

Entering the sitting room, she saw that Ron had wasted no time in making himself comfortable. He was stretched out on the sofa, his hands locked behind his head, grinning engagingly.

"The brat asleep?" he asked, as he turned to face Hermione.

"Ron," she huffed indignantly, "my Aurora isn't a 'brat' and I'll thank you for not calling her one. You, on the other hand," she teased, "are a poster child for true brats everywhere."

"Yeah, yeah," he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Hermione did not have to ask what was on his mind – his expression said it all. Sighing dramatically, she went to the kitchen and in less than five minutes was back with a plate full of Spaghetti Bolognese, which she handed to Ron on a tray. Ron sat up with a grin at her reappearance.

"Hope this is fine," Hermione handed him the tray before sitting down, "It's this evening's leftovers – I had a feeling you'd drop by, so made extra."

A grunt was all the reply she got, and for a while there was no sound apart from the chink of Ron's knife and fork as he demolished the food. Finally, he put his cutlery down and lay back with a satisfied groan. Shaking her head at his laziness, Hermione sent the crockery to the kitchen sink with a casual flick of her wand.

"So," Ron began, stretching his long length out on the sofa, "how're you holding up?"

Hermione gave him a wan smile and shrugged, "To be honest, I just want to get it over with, " she replied, "I mean all this waiting's really getting to me – I've never been patient like that," she shook her head, "Anyway, by this time tomorrow, it'll all be over."

"What time's the party?"

"Seven. It's nothing big, just a small affair to say farewell to Edward and introduce Malfoy to the hospital staff."

Ron raked a hand through his hair and scowled at the ceiling, "Creep!" he muttered, "Git!" Shaking his head, he carried on, "I still can't believe Hanwell's wants him to take over the financial side of things – I mean, how they can trust him? That's what I'd like to know."

Hermione had to smile at the indignant expression marring his face, "But Ron that's just it," she responded, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, "Malfoy's a whiz with numbers, and I bet that's why Harold's over the moon that Malfoy's agreed to take over the position of Finance Director. Harold didn't even want to consider any one else."

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Ron huffed, "I'm sure that there're loads of people out there who're good with numbers! What's the big deal about hiring Malfoy?"

There was a pause in which Hermione studied the pattern on the curtains. With a sigh, she explained, "The thing is, Edward – the director who's about to retire – well, he's… he's just not that good with finances. Between you and me, the hospital's finances are in a bit of a mess because of him. I think Harold's hoping that Malfoy'll be able to sort it all out with minimum fuss."

This was met with a snort from Ron, "So why didn't they just get rid of this Edward guy if he's so crap when they found out? Surely that would've been the sensible thing to do – that way, there wouldn't have been all this worry about the hospital's finances being in chaos and stuff, and that Crapwit would have nothing to do with it."

Hermione didn't answer, but slumping in her chair, ran a hand through her hair. "I really don't know, Ron. Edward is…" she struggled to find the right words, "Edward's Edward, I guess, and by the time Harold discovered the state of our financial situation, well, it was too late for the board to do anything simple about it," she spoke through gritted teeth.

Ron gazed thoughtfully at her for a moment and then gently he said, "Hermione, I'm sorry. I know rehashing the point isn't making it easy for you, but I'm just… well, let's just say that I don't like the way things are going, that's all. I mean if Malfoy ever found out about…" his eyes flicked towards the door into the hall as he trailed off.

"That's kept me awake for the last few nights," Hermione admitted, looking towards the hall as well, "but look at it this way Ron," she turned back to her red haired friend, "I'll have to see him eight times a year at most, and even then it'll always be in the company of others. As long as I keep on my guard, I think things should be ok."

Ron did not look convinced, "I'm just concern about how you'll feel when you see him, Hermione. It'll bring all those memories back," he persisted, "and that's what I'm worried about."

Hermione got up and went over to the window. Looking out into the darkness, she thought about how best to explain the jumble of feelings and emotions going through her mind to Ron. She wasn't sure how she actually felt about those memories herself. "That's just it Ron," she picked her words carefully, "I don't think I'd be reminded of… that. He wasn't… he wasn't brutal to me in the least. My memory of it… "She trailed off, shrugging and shaking her head. "My memory of it wasn't as nasty as I thought it was – in fact it was well…."

Behind her, Ron made a gagging noise and then spluttered, "Please Hermione I've just eaten – spare me the details will you?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake," she snapped, wheeling to face him, "be a little more mature about this, will you? If anyone has a reason to complain, it's me! Stop behaving as though you're the injured party here!" Sighing and rubbing her temples with her fingers, she sat down next to Ron. In a softer tone, she added, "I came to terms with what happened a couple of years back. It was Harry's idea actually. He suggested I use a pensive to find out what really happened that night. Harry said that even though my conscious mind can't remember what happened or how it happened, my sub-conscious mind would. As you're well aware, the imperious curse dulls the conscious mind, but strength of character – the sub-conscious – has the ability to override the imperious curse, and that's what allows you to fight it off."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I know that," he said, sitting up and swinging his long legs to the floor,"it's the theory they taught us during our second year of Auror training, but—"

"Well, Harry thought my sub-conscious would have the memory of what happened, so if I wanted to find out, it would mean watching it in his pensive. He let me borrow it."

"Don't tell me you went through with it?" asked a disbelieving Ron, "Damn it, Hermione! Most people'd do anything they can to forget about stuff like that, but you—"

"Everyone's different, Ron!" she answered in frustration. Taking a deep breath to control the anger licking at her, she bit her lower lip and turned to her silenced friend.

"Ron," she spoke, eyes closed, attempting to be as calm as possible, "I agree with you that some people would do all they can to forget about the very traumatic events in their lives. But the truth is," she gazed unblinkingly at Ron's impassive face, "you can never forget it. No one can, it's impossible. No matter what I do, I'll always bear this… this _violation_ in my memory. If I wanted to forget, if I were _intent_ on forgetting, I wouldn't have had Aurora. And she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. But she'll always be a reminder of what's happened. Yet she's my life, Ron, and my main reason for living."

There was a silence and the sound of the wall clock ticking away the seconds, reverberated around the room. Then Ron sighed and said in a quiet voice, "I know, 'Mione." Grasping her hand in a show of support, he added, "I'm sorry about blowing up earlier." He released her hand, shaking his head, "but to relive those memories of him."

"I know what you mean. But Harry was right – it helped me come to terms with what happened, and I feel much calmer about seeing him again." Hermione sighed, "But you know, the whole thing was strange, he—"

Ron cut her off, not at all comfortable with the direction she seemed to be going, especially the details of what had happened between her and Draco Malfoy. Springing up from the sofa, he grabbed his cloak and said hastily, looking at his watch, "Um… will you look at the time? I've got to go. Hermione, I'm glad that you're taking things better than I thought. Um... well, I've got to make an early start tomorrow," he blushed.

"Of course." She tryed not to smile at his obvious agitation, "thanks for coming round anyway."

XoXoXoXo

It was now seven-thirty and Hermione knew she could delay the inevitable no longer. The office and surrounding corridors were quiet as she checked her appearance in her hand mirror – everyone must be at the party. She shuddered and wrapped her arms tightly about her body. If she prevaricated any longer she knew that Harold would send someone to find her, and drawing attention to herself was the very last thing she wanted to do right now.

Nervously running her hands down the simple silk dress she had donned, Hermione turned and made her slow way to the door of her office. 'Better to get it over with,' she thought, as she walked down the quiet corridor towards the room in which the informal gathering was being held. She was still nervous despite her assurances to Ron last night, but she knew that her nerves were more for Aurora, than for herself. She had faced her own ghosts two years ago, but Aurora was a helpless child who had no way of defending herself if her father were to make things difficult.

Hermione quickened her pace so as to stop herself dwelling on her fears, and after five minutes of brisk walking, reached the huge room that had once been a ballroom. It was now used as an emergency ward if more beds were needed urgently, as well as the venue for Christmas parties and other festive occasions.

Pushing open one of the heavy doors to the large room, Hermione sidled in, and was immediately engulfed by the chatter within. People were standing round the huge room in laughing groups, most holding brimming glasses of wine. Hermione pressed herself against the wall and had to marvel of the beauty of the room in which she now stood. A chandelier twinkled down on the occupants, while a warm breeze drifted in through the partially open French windows. The floor was made of white marble and reflected the light given off by the chandelier. Soft music could be heard from one end of the huge room and craning her neck, Hermione saw a trio consisting of a violinist, flutist, and pianist, had been set up to one side of the huge windows. They were playing folk music – Edward's favourite. The atmosphere was relaxed as everyone did their best to be sociable.

Glancing round the room, Hermione was relieved to see that none of the directors was in sight – she could remain in the shadows for a little longer.

Taking a glass of wine from a table that was groaning under the weight of food and drink, she made her solitary way over to a corner and stood, screened from view by a potted plant almost as tall as herself. Here, she could observe what was going on without being noticed. She leaned back, as a semblance of contentment stole through her. Her mind wandered to her daughter, and she wondered what Aurora was doing right now. Hermione's parents had offered to baby-sit that night, so no doubt all three would be enjoying a lively game of hide and seek, or taking part in a treasure hunt that Hermione's father had arranged earlier that day.

The sound of a voice in her ear, made Hermione jump. She nearly spilled her wine as she wheeled round to face a smiling Isabel Winterton watching her.

'Of all the directors, why did it have to be her?' Hermione groaned inwardly.

From Hermione's first day as director of Magic and Muggle Integration, Isabel had gone out of her way to make Hermione's life difficult. She had been the only director to oppose Hermione's appointment to the board, but Hermione knew it had nothing to do with her age as Isabel had claimed. Isabel had wanted one of her own healers – a middle-aged woman who was a close friend of hers, to get the appointment and had been resentful when Hermione had got it instead.

"Isabel," Hermione gasped, "you startled me."

"Clearly," drawled the other woman smirking. "Tell me," she raised an elegant eyebrow, "what on Earth are you doing, hiding behind a potted plant? One would think you didn't want to be noticed."

"Was I hiding?" Hermione scoffed, trying not to look too defensive.

"Oh come now, Hermione, you're no shrinking violet – why go to all the effort to look inconspicuous? You're not trying to avoid someone here, are you?" Isabel smiled slyly.

"Of course not," Hermione tried looking nonchalant, but inwardly cursing the blush that was creeping up her face. "I just felt a bit tired – I had a long day seeing patients, and I just felt the onset of a migraine. You know how it is," she shrugged.

"Well," continued Isabel, smiling sweetly, clearly seeing through Hermione's thinly veiled lies, "everyone's been wondering where you were. Dear Edward was quite upset that you hadn't managed to make the party on time."

As she had meant it to, Isabel's barb hit home, and Hermione felt guilt sweep over her in a tidal wave. She had been so wrapped up in her own worries that she had given no thought to the kindly and well-meaning Finance Director who was retiring today. Edward had always gone out of his way to be especially kind to the muggleborn witch when she had first started working at the hospital. Furthermore, he had always been Hermione's staunchest ally against Isabel during board meetings, and she had forgotten all about Edward's feelings in favour of her useless worries about meeting Draco Malfoy.

Returning Isabel's smile with a saccharine one of her own, she countered, "It really couldn't be helped. This afternoon's clinic session ran over time, after which I had to rush home to freshen up. Then, what with one thing after another, I found myself running late. I was merely stopping for a breather here when you found me. Knowing Edward as well as I do, I'm sure he'll understand when I explain my tardiness."

Hermione saw to her satisfaction that Isabel's smile had vanished, to be replaced with a disapproving look. "I see," she drawled, "well, I'm sure you're more than ready to meet Edward now. What are you waiting for?"

Swallowing her resentment at the patronising tone in Isabel's voice, Hermione nodded and feeling her heart sink, glanced around for Edward's balding head amidst the throng of healers.

Isabel however, had not finished speaking, and said in what sounded like triumph, "He's just over there – by the fireplace."

Nodding her thanks, Hermione made her way through the crowd of people to the other side of the room. Edward was indeed standing by the fireplace, talking to a tall blond haired figure Hermione had no trouble recognising.

Quickly, she stepped behind a group of people to compose herself – now she knew why Isabel had been looking like the cat that got the cream when she told Hermione of Edward's whereabouts. The older witch must have remembered that Hermione had not been very pleased when Harold Pinfold announced that Draco Malfoy would be filling the position of Finance Director, and had obviously hoped to unsettle her. Well, Hermione would not give her the satisfaction.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, and willed her heart to beat at its normal rate rather than continue the drum roll it had set up in the last few seconds. Then pinning a genuine smile on her face, she walked over to Edward, and tapped him on the shoulder.

The old man broke off what he was saying and turned to face Hermione, a smile spreading across his wrinkled face. Behind him, Hermione saw that Draco Malfoy too had turned, and was now staring at her, surprise written clearly over his face. He had changed in the five years since she had last seen him; there were now lines around his eyes and mouth, and he seemed thinner. Also his hair was longer and a lock fell over his forehead into his left eye. He was still undeniably good-looking and now held himself with an air of authority he had not possessed before. Hermione noticed that quite a few of the women present were eyeing him with covert interest.

"Hermione," Edward cried on seeing her, "I was wondering where you were – is everything ok?" Not giving her a chance to answer, he went on, "Ah yes, Draco, here is the last of the directors I was telling you about. May I introduce you to Hermione Granger? Hermione is our director of Magical and Muggle Integration, and she's very good at her job."

Edward beamed at the two young people. Draco, taking the cue, stepped forward with a smile that made Hermione wary.

"Well, well, if this isn't a pleasant surprise Hermione – we meet again." Then before Hermione knew what was happening, Draco put his arms round her and kissed her cheek, allowing his lips to linger longer than was necessary on her flaming skin.

Gasping with surprise, and not a little shock, Hermione pushed him away, extricating herself as swiftly as possible. Her face, she knew, was now the exact same colour as a ripe tomato.

"Wonderful," beamed a delighted Edward, "Oh I am so glad you two get on so well. I must say I was a little worried from what Hermione said earlier. I gathered you weren't the best of friends."

Hermione opened her mouth to agree with this statement, but Draco beat her to it. "Oh that's not quite true. Although I must say that we had… shall we say a history?" he winked meaningfully at Edward. "Unfortunately, we didn't part on the best of terms, and perhaps for this reason, Hermione might have felt uncomfortable about me joining Hanwell's board of directors." He smiled indulgently at Hermione, as he slid an arm round her shoulders, effectively anchoring her against his side.

Hermione was seething inside and tried to politely remove herself from Draco's arm, but he merely tightened it, pulling her even closer to him.

"Well," said Edward, who was unaware of Hermione's struggles, and smiling broadly, "your working together at Hanwell's will be the perfect opportunity for you to rectify our Hermione's feelings. Hermione's a lovely girl, and between you and me," he bent nearer the younger wizard sotto voce, "quite an excellent catch!"

Hermione had to choke back a cry of rage; they were talking about her as though she were some chattel with no feelings of her own! Opening her mouth, she made to speak, but seeing her indignant expression, Draco quickly broke in, "That she is, Edward – I couldn't agree more," he replied silkily, pressing himself against the struggling witch, "Hermione and I have a lot to catch up on – it's just such a lovely surprise to see her tonight," he glanced at the woman at his side. "I wasn't even aware she'd changed hospitals! The last I knew, she was working at St Mungo's. Clearly I've been away too long."

"I don't think—"Hermione began, but once again Draco overrode her, "And can you believe it, Edward? Hermione and I haven't seen each other since I went to America – over five years ago!"

"Oh, I am pleased," said Edward. Hermione saw with a pang that there were tears glistening in his eyes, "this has really made my evening – seeing the two of you reunited." Edward looked from Hermione to Draco and he added, "Excellent. Well, I don't want to play gooseberry in your reunion. I'll leave you two to catch up now," he teased, "and I'll speak to you later."

He ambled off with a wide smile plastered over his face. Hermione turned to face Draco; hate seem to be pouring from every pore of her body and she glared at him before saying through gritted teeth, "How dare you…how dare you humiliate me in this way you piece of …you venomous piece of trash!" She wrenched herself away from him as she spoke. They were standing in a small alcove and so had some privacy. "Not only that," she went on, "you deliberately lied to someone who's done his best to make you feel welcome – you really are a class-A shit!"

He leaned back smiling at her, his eyes skimming her body as though the dress covering it was not there. Then he said in a voice equally as soft as Hermione's had been, "I'd watch my mouth if I were you, Hermione! You don't want to upset Edward now do you? It assured the old boy greatly to see us on such good terms. Why ruin his retirement party by throwing a tantrum?"

Almost spitting with rage, she glared at the aristocratic face of the man standing before her. She knew that if she wanted answers from him, she would have to calm down, oh but she was so angry!

Taking several deep breaths to bring her temper under control, she looked up into the cool grey eyes she knew so well, but in another face. She couldn't help herself – her eyes started picking out Draco's features comparing them to those of her daughter, and even as she berated herself, she noticed that both Aurora and Draco had the exact shaped eyes with the exact shade of grey. Furthermore, it appeared that Aurora had also inherited Draco's pale skin and facial bone structure.

"I know it's been a long time since last you saw me," Draco's drawling voice broke through her intense perusal of his face, "but is there really any need to ravish me like this?"

Hermione swiftly pulled her gaze away from his face, the telltale colour suffusing her cheeks. "Don't flatter yourself," she spat, "I was simply comparing your features to those of a ferret," she nodded her head to give her next words emphasis and said in a deliberately casual voice, "and yes, you're remarkably similar – same pointed nose and face. Truly remarkable, the resemblance… yes indeed!"

She saw to her satisfaction her jibe had worked, for his smile vanished, replaced by a sneer very similar to Aurora's when angered.

In a very quiet voice, he clipped, "I'd watch my mouth if I were you Hermione! It may have escaped your notice, but I could make your life pretty miserable if I so chose – imagine where you'd be if the amount of money allocated to the department of Surgical Magic was halved!"

Hermione felt the blood leave her face. He couldn't do that, he just couldn't! But a small and truthful voice in the back of her head now spoke up, _'Yes, he can and you know it! As Finance Director, he can do practically what he likes with regard to allocating money. A few lies about your inability to manage your department could even mean you loosing the positions of both head of department, as well as the directorship. Besides Harold, he will be the most powerful person in the hospital.'_

Hermione didn't mind insults directed at her – this tolerance was a must if you were a Gryffindor, a muggle-born, and one of Harry Potter's best friends. This ensured that by the time she had graduated from Hogwartss she was almost immune to any personal insults directed at her. What she did mind however, were insults directed either at someone she loved, or at her work – that she could not bear. There were now two courses open to her; apologise or act as though she had not heard his threat and change the subject.

After a moment, she opted for the strategy least likely to dent her own pride and asked, "Why Malfoy? Why give Edward hints about us meaning more to each other than acquaintances or even friends? What was the point of it all?"

Draco did not answer her question immediately. He seemed to study her without speaking. Then he said, changing the subject, "There's something different about you that I can't quite put my finger on. You've changed, but I can't tell how. You still look the same – well maybe a few more lines round the eyes," the corner of his lips lifted, "but that's to be expected. No, it's something much deeper than your physical appearance, but what is it that's different?" he tilted his head, puzzled, "That's for the life of me what I can't fathom."

Hermione was well aware of the change he was trying to explain – it was called motherhood. Draco however, did not know this, and she intended it to be kept that way. Speaking in a falsely bright voice, she countered, "Different? Do you mean that I look more. _responsible_ now?" her stress on the word became a dart that took Draco aback, "Well, running an ever expanding department and being expected to carry out research at the same time would change a person, you know. Not that I was ever _irresponsible_," she bit out.

"No, you never were irresponsible," he agreed quietly, "but I don't think that juggling your department would daunt you." In a more firm voice, he added, "You were, after all, the brightest in our year at Hogwarts, gained more NEWTs than anyone else, even while carrying out that insane campaign on Elf-Rights. No, I don't think running your department would have—"

At that moment, to Hermione's relief, James Sanderson wended his way over to them followed by a number of other healers. Turning from Draco's incomplete statement, Hermione smiled brilliantly at them and soon, she had been pulled into a conversation with several other people about the latest Quidditch scores. Draco, she saw, was not looking please at the interruption, but she ignored him while the noise level round them grew. Everyone was laughing and joking, and it was impossible for Hermione to remain angry with her nemesis, as she conversed with her colleagues.

Then, Harold Pinfold called for silence and the speeches began. Thankfully they weren't too long, all the speakers expounding on Edward's services to the hospital and wishing him a happy retirement. Hermione felt tears prick the back of her eyes as Edward himself thanked everyone for making his time at the hospital so enjoyable. She knew they had come to the end of an era tonight, and hoped the next one would not be as fraught with problems as her sixth sense warned her it would.

After the speeches, people began to disperse – all going up to Edward and wishing him a happy retirement before exiting the large room. Hermione waited until most of the other staff members had left before setting her untouched glass of vine down on a table, she made her own way over to Edward to hug him. Her throat felt constricted as he returned her affectionate hug. She knew she would miss him more than she could say, even if his ability to add two and two was not all that good.

"Have a wonderful retirement," she croaked, "I for one, will miss you more than you can know."

"Hey!" Edward cried, holding her away from him, "No tears now, and my girl. You're making it sound as though we'll never meet again and that will never do. Why, how will I know what's happening in your life if you don't come to visit me now and then?"

Hermione gave a watery smile. "Oh, you can't get rid of me that quickly. Of course I'll visit you – I'm only afraid you'll find me a nuisance!" She blinked away her tears, trying to give Edward a reassuring smile.

"Never, my dear," beamed Edward, "Both you and that little chit of yours will always be welcome for tea anytime!" Looking away from Hermione for a moment, he turned back to the young woman and added, "Frankly, I'm glad for Hanwell's that I'm leaving things in trustworthy hands, so don't you fret on my account. Things around here will only get better. Good luck, Hermione," he finished, giving her a final hug before stepping back and greeting Isabel Winterton, who had come up behind Hermione.

Returning his blessing, Hermione turned away and made her way down the length of the long room, and out into the quiet corridor. She had just turned away from the heavy doors, when they were wrenched open and Draco Malfoy strode out, his tailored silk grey robes billowing behind him. Hermione automatically quicken her pace on sight of him, but in three long strides, he had reached her, and taken her arm.

"What do you want?" she asked testily, not looking at him.

"To escort you out of the hospital, of course," came the lazy reply, "it certainly wouldn't do to allow such a lovely young lady to leave a party on her own. Oh, and to find out who 'that little chit of yours' might be."

Hermione's heart sank quicker than a heavy stone in water; he must have overheard Edward talking to her. _'Just like the eavesdropping snake he is'_ she thought savagely, as she sought desperately for a reply to his question. She could not afford to antagonise him, nor was it wise to change the topic – Draco was not stupid, and it would merely rouse his suspicions – she would have to come up with a good lie and fast. Her only comfort was that if Draco asked Edward what he had meant by his statement, she knew Edward would never divulge her secret.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Hermione pushed open the outer doors and stepped out into the warm April evening, with Draco right behind her. In a light voice, she asked, "Why would you want to know?"

"Oh, there's no particular reason," he gave an answering shrug, "just curious, that's all."

Hermione was not fooled for a minute – she recognised that tone of voice; it was one often adopted by Slytherins of her acquaintance when they were anxious to know something, but didn't want to appear too eager to find out. She gave a mental shrug – it was time to put her hastily concocted lie to the test.

"Well, I don't know if you know, but Edward's extremely fond of owls – studies them and breeds several different species of them as a hobby. Anyway, a while back, I invited him over to tea to discuss some financial matters, as well as to catch up. He saw my owl – she's rather common, but Edward, he took an instant liking to her. Apparently, my owl had 'personality'," she rolled her eyes, hoping that her act was good enough for the Slytherin, "Edward also mentioned one or two other facts about Zidkar, which I can't remember." She gave Draco a half-smile, shaking her head fondly, pretending exasperation at Edward's owl eccentricity. "You know how it is with owl hobbyists – next thing I know; he's calling her my 'little chit' and expecting me to bring my rag-tag owl along with me to tea!"

"Oh," Draco responded, biting his lip, looking a little disappointed, "for a moment there, I thought he was referring to a child."

Hermione let out a high-pitched slightly hysterical laugh, "Me? With a child?" she shook her head vehemently, "You can't be serious! I'm not crazy enough to juggle a Medi-witch career with children in tow!" she gave another laugh. "Um… well, it's been interesting meeting you. I'm sure you've other appointments to keep. This is where I leave you." They had reached the Apparation point at the edge of the grounds and Hermione was thankful to turn away from Draco's piercing scrutiny.

It was more than obvious Draco was not finished with the subject, and he swiftly turned her back to face him, an odd expression in his eyes. _'Surely that's not hope is it?'_ she thought, puzzled.

"Why would you having a child be something impossible?" he questioned, an unreadable expression on his face. "After all, for all I know you may very well have become pregnant after our last meeting." He leaned closer to her, his eyes boring into hers.

Hermione's eyes widened in horror, her face paling_. 'He doesn't know does he?'_ her mind kept repeating. _'All this while – he can't have known about __Aurora__!'_

Draco saw Hermione's look of horror, followed by her frown. Misinterpreting her facial expressions, he flushed in anger and barked out, "I can clearly see now that the idea of motherhood repels you." Shaking his head with an expression Hermione couldn't decipher, Draco added, "I don't think… I just… I just thought to ask." Recovering from whatever it was that caused him to stumble over his words; his face steeled itself into a familiar sneer, as he bit out, "I doubt you possess enough maternal instincts to ever consider motherhood anyway!"

Grey eyes flashing, before Hermione could get in a word edgewise, he Disapparated, leaving the shocked and confused woman standing alone on the edge of Hanwell's Hospitals quiet grounds.

Rooted to the spot, Hermione could only stare at the spot Draco had vacated. She felt as though a runaway Bludger had knocked the wind out of her. She blinked, trying to make sense of the last few minutes, but for the life of her, she couldn't work out why Draco Malfoy would have flown into a temper like that. Then, with a shake of her head – _'Who knew what went on in that Slytherin git's mind?'_ – She too, Disapparated.

Draco Malfoy's mental state had nothing to do with her, but even so she still wondered at the strangeness of her encounter with him, as she arrived at her parent's house to take her daughter home.


	5. Chapter 4

Authors Note: Thanks as always to my beta for correcting this and to those of you who have taken the time to review. Please let me know what you think of this chapter – believe me, it is one of the most important in the whole of this story! In case you don't know, the disclaimer can be found in the prologue!

Chapter four

The late afternoon sun shone brightly through the large windows of Hanwell's West Wing Conference room, picking out the shapes of the still figures seated round the large mahogany table, dominating its leader. All apart from one were sitting to attention, their eyes trained on the figure of Draco Malfoy, seated at the head of the table, parchments spread out before him.

At a slight nod from Harold Pinfold seated beside him, Draco started to speak, his well-modulated voice carrying effortlessly round the quiet room. "I've called this meeting today to discuss with you all, the new procedures I'll be implementing with regards the way finances in the hospital will be handled. I appreciate that some of you may not like these changes, but as Harold has agreed, they are vital to the smooth running of the hospital..."

From her position a few seats away from him, Hermione scowled at Draco's profile, a feeling of foreboding already beginning to take hold of her insides. Shooting covert glances at her colleagues, she was further dismayed to see the looks of rapt attention of their faces – all were leaning forward, eager not to miss a word of what was being said. Gripping her quill tightly, Hermione too, focused her attention back on Draco, knowing that whatever he had to say would probably directly effect her own department, and therefore ought not to be missed.

"…the changes I intend to introduce are simple and will allow me to keep an accurate record of exactly how much is spent and on what. Each department will be undergoing a financial assessment, in which factors such as the kind of treatment – long-term or short-term, is being administered, the number of staff the department has, and the kinds of research being carried out by the department, will be reviewed. Based on the results of this assessment, a budget will then be allocated to that department. All expenses must be accounted for by department heads..."

Hermione let Draco's voice wash over her, while she automatically started to take notes. By the sound of it, the changes he was proposing wouldn't be all that bad. She leaned back in her seat wishing the meeting would be over soon so that she could get home. Suppressing the urge to yawn, she glanced at her watch and saw to her consternation that ten minutes had already passed – so much for Harold's promise of a short meeting. She could see an expanse of cloudless blue sky through the window, and longed to be out there savouring the warmth of the day. It was perfect Quidditch weather, and with a slight grimace, Hermione pictured Harry, Ron and probably Ginny as well, racing each other up and down the Weasleys' make-shift Quidditch pitch – some things, she thought fondly, never changed.

The sound of rustling parchment made Hermione glance round at her colleagues. Draco had stopped speaking and was leaning back in his chair perfectly at ease. Everyone else was watching him closely, mingled looks of horror and admiration on their faces.

Smiling jovially round at them all, Harold now addressed the bemused looking group, "No need to worry, we have matters well in hand. Draco will meet with each of you in the following week to discuss the finer points of your department's finances and he'll take things from there. I'm confident that this system will work admirably. Now, I fear the meeting has overrun again – ah well, it can't be helped. Have a good evening all of you."

So saying, Harold pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. This was the cue Hermione, as well as the rest of the board of directors, was waiting for. Gathering her hastily scribbled notes together, she made straight for the door, anxious not to linger – she didn't feel like talking to Draco Malfoy right now.

"Hermione? Hermione, wait up, I want to talk to you."

Cursing silently, she turned to see James Sanderson hurrying up to her, a frown marring his face. In his early thirties, James was of middle height with curling brown hair. His eyes, a deep hazel, were narrowed as he studied Hermione's flushed face.

"What's the hurry?" he asked, reaching her side and holding open the door.

Stepping out into the corridor, Hermione shrugged, and keeping her voice light answered, "It was getting stiflingly hot in there, I needed some air."

"I suppose," James agreed, falling into step beside her, "so much for a ten minute meeting, eh? That must have lasted well over twenty minutes."

"Cheer up," Hermione consoled him absentmindedly, "it could've been a lot worse."

"Hmm, I suppose. What you think of the new finance system? Cleverly thought out, wouldn't you say? But then Malfoy is a whiz with numbers – almost makes me wish he'd taken over the Finance Directorship earlier."

"The new system's certainly thorough," Hermione commented dryly, as she pushed open the heavy outer doors of the hospital, "Malfoy clearly knows what he's doing with regards to finance."

The grounds were quiet as they stepped outside. A warm breeze ruffled Hermione's hair as they strolled along, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the springy green grass. The sun was sinking fast and twilight was taking its place. Hermione breathed in the warm fragrant air and felt her spirits lift as they always did when she was on her way home.

"Oh yes," James enthused, putting a companionable arm round her shoulders as they made their leisurely way across the grounds, "hopefully with the changes, my departmental budget will increase. Edward, bless him, still seemed to think there were no more than ten people working in my department, even though that number's almost trebled these past five years, and he could never understand why I needed more money to finance the department."

"True," Hermione couldn't hide her smile, "it'll be interesting to see how things pan out though."

"Won't it just?" came a drawling voice from right behind her. Both Hermione and James jumped and spinning round, saw Draco leaning casually against a tree watching them. His eyes were hooded showing no emotion but his mouth was compressed into a thin line which Hermione knew from past experience, didn't bode well.

"Draco," James said with a smile, recovering himself, "I didn't hear you following us – find it hot in there too?"

"You could say that," Draco replied, his eyes flicking to James and then back to Hermione's startled face, "or maybe I was curious to know why you two bolted for the door like that." He gave a thin-lipped smile, which did nothing to ease Hermione's growing apprehension, "One would think from the way you both exited that room that demons were after you."

"Oh no," James laughed, misinterpreting Draco's smile, "it was stifling in there, that's all."

"I see," Draco shrugged, not taking his eyes from Hermione as he spoke, "well, don't let me keep you, Sanderson."

James, still smiling said, "Oh first names please! We don't stand on ceremony at Hanwell's – it's what makes us different from other hospitals." He gave a proud smile and went on, "We're very informal here; it helps create a relaxed atmosphere for patients."

Draco said nothing, but stared pointedly at the apparition spot not too far away from them. For a moment, James looked non-plused, but then reluctantly taking the hint continued "Well…erm, I'll be off now – see you in the morning Hermione!"

Hermione turned and smiled broadly at him. "Oh yes, we'll definitely meet up some time tomorrow – maybe for coffee?" At James' nod she went on, "Good, I'll floo you in the morning to arrange it."

"Right," James replied curtly, preparing to Apparate, "have a good evening both of you." He Disapparated, leaving Hermione alone with a seething Draco.

Slowly Hermione turned back to Draco, pinning a bright smile on her face as she did so, "Well, I too must be off…" she began, but was cut off.

"Oh not so fast," Draco drawled, stepping forward and placing a hand on her shoulder, "surely you can spare the time to have a drink with an old friend?"

Hermione had to bite back a derisive snort at these words, but smiling determinedly, she responded, "No, I don't think so."

"Why not? I don't bite you know."

"No, I suppose you don't, but I've other commitments this evening, so can't spare the time." She gave Draco another smile which did not quite reach her eyes. It was important to be civil to him, as the amount of money her department would be allocated this year rested in his hands, but that didn't mean she had to have a drink with the man!

"I see," he clipped, his eyes boring into hers, "you can't spare the time to have a quick drink with me, but can spare the time to stand and chat with Sanderson – does that about sum it up?"

"Look," Hermione reasoned, unconsciously adopting the same tone she used when trying to reason with Aurora before one of her tantrums, "James and I are good friends, hence we like to spend time together. You and I, on the other hand, have nothing in common – never have and probably never will. Besides, I've other things to do this evening, so I can't spare the time even if I wanted to do so."

"I agree that we've nothing in common as yet," he spoke quietly, "but things change Hermione – did no one ever tell you that?"

Hermione took an involuntary step away from him, trying hard to keep calm. "What're you talking about?" she asked, irritation evident in her voice. She didn't like the way this conversation was going and was now even more determined than ever to put an end to it.

"Well," he smiled, "we have plenty of things to discuss – common grounds, you may call it," at her blank look, he went on, "for example, the financial state of the Department of Surgical Magic. What better way to do that than over a nice cool drink?"

"I don't mix work with pleasure," she snapped scowling, "it isn't good business practice you know!"

If anything his smile grew wider, and he agreed, "Excellent work ethics. So we'll simply discuss 'pleasure' over the drink then, shall we?"

Hermione could feel heat rising to her cheeks, and by his smirk, saw that he had noticed this. "No," she repeated, glowering, "no, as I said before, I don't want to spend any more time with you than is strictly necessary, and I don't classify having a drink with you as necessary. So good day to you."

"I tried to be nice," he shrugged, "but that doesn't seem to be something you understand all that well – what a shame! Oh well, that leaves me no choice – don't say I didn't warn you!"

With those cryptic words, Draco Disapparated, leaving her alone in the quiet grounds. She shivered even though it was not cold, and wished, not for the first time, that Draco Malfoy had stayed in America. At least there he could not hurt her and threaten the life she had so painstakingly built up these last five years. Shaking off her misgivings, she too prepared to Disapparate and attempt to turn her thoughts to the evening ahead.

XoXoXoXo

"It's an outrage," Hermione fumed, as she paced up and down her sitting room, "It's outrageous to think that they'd make her do that!"

Ginny, lounging on the sofa facing the large windows, sighed and said, "But that's life Hermione, the girl has no other choice. That's what society dictates!"

"But why? We're now in the 21st century and thanks to some antiquated rubbish, poor Patricia has to either marry what's his name or terminate her pregnancy! What about the baby? Where are its rights?" Placing her hands on her hips, she glowered at the unfortunate Ginny.

Ginny sighed again, and gave Hermione an almost pitying look. Then patiently she tried again, "Hermione, don't get angry at me please. I'm simply delivering the message, that's all. You know as well as I do that single mothers aren't accepted in Wizarding Society. It's just not done. If a girl's silly enough to get pregnant in the first place – and you must admit that she'd certainly be extremely foolish, what with all the contraception charms and potions available now; Its almost impossible to get pregnant unless you really want to, Patricia has really only one of two options – either marry the father or terminate her pregnancy. They're the only two accepted ways to handle her situation."

"Well, whatever it is, it's still wrong!" Hermione exclaimed, "My god, it's positively barbaric!"

"Be that as it may," Ginny replied calmly, "the fact remains that Patricia has two choices open to her and as you know, marrying Luis Danby isn't an option as he's already married!"

Hermione sat down heavily on the sofa beside Ginny and sighed deeply. "I can't do it Ginny," she said quietly, "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I went through with it. I'm sure that Ernie'll understand when I explain it to him - Patricia being his sister, I suppose I was the natural choice to be the one doing the termination."

"Yeah," agreed Ginny soberly, "oh well, I did warn her you may say no."

"But why," Hermione questioned, a note of desperation creeping into her voice, "why can't she just have the child and bring it up? Her family's rich enough to afford it, so why not?"

"Wizarding Etiquette," Ginny answered with a slight shrug, "unmarried mothers are frowned upon in respectable society – they become outcasts. I don't suppose there's really any reason that single witches can't be mothers, but it's just the culture and custom."

Hermione was silent and then thoughtfully, she asked, "Ginny, supposing you weren't married and ended up pregnant, surely your parents'd let you keep the child?"

"No," Ginny replied seriously, "That's just it, they wouldn't. I'd either have to marry the father or terminate the pregnancy. There'd be no other option for me. That's why girls ensure they are never in that position – Merlin only knows how Patricia McMillan managed it!" She laughed and then continued, "I remember as though it were yesterday. Mum sat me down and warned me against the dangers of getting pregnant – she must have gone at me for well over an hour!"

"But surely you won't follow this nonsense?" Hermione couldn't keep the slightly frantic note from creeping into her voice now, "I mean, say in twenty years' time, your daughter got pregnant – surely you and Harry wouldn't force her to terminate, would you?"

Ginny said nothing for a moment, but Hermione noticed that her eyes, which had been fixed on Hermione's indignant face, slid guiltily away from her, so she was looking at a point over Hermione's right shoulder. "Well, I'd ensure she didn't get into such a position in the first place," she finally responded.

"You haven't answered my question – what would you do if she _became_ pregnant?"

"Ensured she married the father!" Ginny replied defensively. "Any decent parent would do the same. I don't know, termination seems rather harsh though." Ginny fell silent and Hermione knew she was thinking about Aurora. Then she carried on in a harder voice, "But that Patricia – how she was stupid enough to get herself into this position, is still a mystery to me!"

There was a silence in which thoughts tumbled round Hermione's brain. The sound of birdsong drifted in through the open window, and not too far away, a lawn mower could be heard chugging over someone's lawn.

Finally, Hermione turned to look into Ginny's worried eyes, and quietly she asked, "Ginny, I don't understand, if what you say is the norm in wizarding society – and I don't doubt it is, then why wasn't I made to feel like an outcast when Aurora was born?"

"I've sometimes wondered about that, especially during the first few months of Aurora's life. I suppose it has something to do with your muggle background…I mean your parents were quite accepting about your pregnancy, weren't they?" At Hermione's nod, she went on, "Then there was your celebrity status in the wizarding world; youngest healer ever to join the Hanwell's staff, best witch at Hogwarts for over twenty years, member of the Order, close friend of Harry Potter and so on. I suppose people forgave you your little indiscretion in the light of all that – well, those who knew about it anyway, and there weren't many of them for obvious reasons. And by the time most people found out, when Aurora started nursery school, most just assumed that you must've had a husband but he died in the war – Merlin only knows we lost enough people in that damned war. Also, people are much more forgiving in war time."

"Yeah," Hermione smiled cynically as her thoughts churned restlessly. "If it weren't for my parents, I don't know how I would've coped," she mused, "those first few months were especially difficult – Aurora wasn't an easy baby to look after and then there was my post-natal depression to contend with, as well as the fear that He may discover Aurora's existence, well, let's just say that wizarding custom was the last thing on my mind."

"Of course," Ginny said gently," that's understandable, but Hermione, even with you, we've had to take precautions this past year what with Aurora starting nursery and stuff." At Hermione's raised eyebrows, she elaborated, "That man – your supposed husband and Aurora's father, the one who you invented when Aurora started asking questions, remember?"

"Of course," Hermione shrugged impatiently, "but what's that to do with anything? I just told Aurora that to curb her curiosity nothing else."

Ginny gave a short laugh and then carried on, "Well, I'm not sure if I should tell you this, but when Ron heard what you had told Aurora, he embellished it a bit so your husband was a muggle, in case anyone ever questioned Aurora's paternity. Actually in hindsight, I think it's a good idea he took that precaution, what with Malfoy being back on the scene. A muggle husband would explain the lack of a record of your marriage, if anyone cared to look into it."

"Yes," Hermione murmured, a lump lodging in her throat, "Yes it was very thoughtful of him." She felt deeply touched that Ron had gone to such lengths to ensure her child was accepted in wizarding society, and was deeply thankful for such loyal friends.

"Hermione, are you ok?" Ginny's anxious voice penetrated her thoughts.

Looking up, she saw her friend peering down at her, concern evident on her face. "Yes," she replied, "just… just worried, that's all. All this stuff about single mothers is worrying me a bit now that another girl is in the same position I was in five years ago."

"I wouldn't worry," Ginny reassured, "the muggle husband has his uses after all."

"Ginny," Hermione began thoughtfully, "If Luis Danby hadn't been married, would Patricia's parents've forced them to marry?"

"You bet," Ginny grinned, "They would've been married quicker than you can blink!"

The sound of voices made both women look round, and a moment later the jangling of the doorbell brought both to their feet.

"It'll be Harry back with Aurora," Ginny smiled, going out into the hall and opening the front door.

Aurora tumbled through, her cheeks shining with excitement. Behind her, Harry entered the hall looking very wind swept and grinning.

"Mummy, Mummy," squealed Aurora, running over to her mother and hugging her round the waist, "We went on Uncle Hawwy's bwoom and it was weally good!"

"That's nice," Hermione replied, gently disentangling herself from her daughter's effusive embrace and leading the way back into the sitting room. Mustering a smile she asked brightly, "Where did you go?"

"To the park down the road," Harry told her, "I put shielding and silencing charms round us so no muggles could see us and we were off, weren't we angel?"

Aurora nodded enthusiastically in agreement and he went on, "she's a natural Hermione; you should let her fly more often."

"Oh yes," agreed an excited Aurora, looking up at her mother through long lashes, "Mummy, can me and Uncle Hawwy go on his bwoom again please, please? I'll be weally good all the time if you let me go on Uncle Hawwy's bwoom, I pwomise!"

Across the room, Harry grinned at Hermione's flustered expression. Not being a particularly good flyer herself, she had made it a point to avoid brooms unless really necessary, and so it was not surprising that Aurora had never ridden on one.

Hermione took a deep breath wondering how to deal with this situation but grateful at the same time, as it had forced her to stop brooding about her single parent status and what this may mean for Aurora within wizarding society. "Well," she hedged, "we'll see – Uncle Harry is a busy man after all, so he doesn't have much spare time."

"Yes he does," contradicted Aurora thrusting her chin out defiantly, "he said me and him would go out at the weekend, didn't you Uncle Hawwy?" she turned to appeal to Harry for help, and obligingly Harry nodded.

"True," he said, "but as Mummy says, we'll have to wait and see!"

"Why?" Aurora frowned, and Hermione noticed that her lower lip had begun to tremble, "why do we have to wait and see? No one else waits and sees! Jenny's daddy takes her flying all the time, and so does Annabelle's mummy, so why do I have to wait and see, it's not fair!" Angry tears glistened in her eyes as she spoke, although she strove valiantly to keep them at bay.

Kneeling down, Hermione scooped Aurora up into her arms and hugged her tightly, "There there," she soothed, "we don't mean to be unfair, it is just that I don't like flying and Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron are both quite busy, but we'll see what we can do – how's that?"

Aurora knew defeat when she saw it, and realising there would be nothing gained in arguing further, nodded in acquiescence. She was determined to get her own way though, but instinctively knew that she wasn't going to get a better deal with any of the adults she knew, than the one she had just struck with her mother.

"Look," Ginny said brightly, pointing out of the window, "there's a thrush perched on the window sill – come and see Aurora."

Pulling away from her mother, Aurora wandered dejectedly over to where Ginny stood, and looking through the window, glared at the unfortunate thrush, which promptly flew off. "Don't like it," she muttered scowling, "it can fly when it wants to – it doesn't have to wait and see like I have to – not fair!"

Behind Her, Hermione sighed deeply, while Harry tried in vain to hide his grin. It would indeed be a long day and she couldn't wait for the end of it to come.

XoXoXoXo

The reference library was quiet as Hermione placed the thick dusty journal she had been looking through back onto its shelf. Moving along the shelf, she selected another volume, and tucking it beneath her arm, made her way back to the desk at which she had been taking notes.

There was only one other occupant in the library apart from the wizen old librarian, a young student who was busy writing at a corner desk. Hermione smiled at him as she passed but doubted that he had seen her. Seating herself, she was just about to open the musty volume she was carrying, when the library doors were pushed open. Ignoring this, Hermione focused her eyes on the cramped writing on the page before her, when an all too familiar voice reached her ears, and she sat bolt upright looking round her. From the sound of it, Draco Malfoy was talking to the amiable old librarian. Their voices were quiet in the silence that pervaded the library and she quickly lost interest. She had a report to finish by the end of the day and sitting around listening to Draco Malfoy talk, wasn't going to help her get it completed.

She shrugged and was about to turn away, when the sound of her own name reached her ears. In an instant, her earlier disinterest was replaced by curiosity, the half completed report lying in front of her forgotten. Getting up quietly, she made her silent way round some shelves until she had the two men in sight. She wanted to know what they were discussing, but more importantly, what she had to do with their conversation. She knew that eavesdropping was essentially wrong, but something about Draco Malfoy put her on the defensive and she was determined to know what he was up to.

Peering through a gap in the books in front of her, she saw that old Alan, the librarian, was standing leaning against a shelf piled high with journals, while Draco stood facing him, his back to the library windows. She had a side view of both men and shifting her position slightly, Hermione saw that Draco was leaning forward, a rapt expression on his pale face.

"But as you say," he nodded smiling at the old librarian, "you've been here since the hospital opened, so you must know all about it. I mean, being such an integral part of things, you're bound to know all the goings on here!"

From the friendly tone of his voice, this wasn't the first time he and Alan had talked.

Alan, normally quite reserved with strangers, seemed perfectly at ease as he surveyed the young man before him thoughtfully. "Oh yes," he responded, "you could say that. I mean, I was here since the first day the hospital opened, so yes, I know exactly what goes on. People don't often think I notice things, but I do all right."

"Hmm, I can imagine," Draco agreed, "I remember that in my school days, you worked at the St Mungo's library!"

"Oh that," Alan snorted derisively, "no manners those healers! They just barged in, and treated the books any old how; chucking them around, leaving them lying about once they'd finished with them… and as for the way they treated me," he huffed and shook his head in disgust. Hermione scowled as Draco nodded in agreement. "Now here – this is a different atmosphere altogether, the staff treat me as though I'm worth something, and they don't disrespect the books. Even the students put them back where they find them – that's what I call respect."

"Oh definitely!" Draco agreed smiling, "after all, books are the bringers of knowledge, are they not?"

"Of course," the old man enthused, "if people understood the value of books, they'd never dare leave one lying about. Now as I was saying, our Hermione, she knows the value of books all right, and she always has time to chat to me too!"

Was it Hermione's imagination, or did Draco's smile become, if possible, even broader? He certainly nodded his agreement to this statement and said "I remember at school, she was forever in the library when everyone else was doing other things," looking a little nostalgic, he added, "She's a real little bookworm, one might say!"

"You were both at school together?" There was a note of definite interest in Alan's voice now, "she never told me that."

"Yeah," Draco drawled casually with an elegant shrug, "we were in the same year at Hogwarts and did practically the same subjects."

Hermione didn't like the way this conversation was heading, and had half a mind to run out from her hiding place and put an end to it, but that would involve answering awkward questions and she didn't feel up to that right now. So she stood there, not wanting to hear any more, but at the same time unable to stop herself.

"I never knew," Alan mused, "but thinking about it, it fits. I mean you're around the same age and all that… but I'm surprised she didn't mention it though."

"It probably never came up in your conversations," Draco excused, "I mean I've been away from Britain for a while now, and she's been very busy."

"Oh yes, that she's been," the librarian chuckled. "Do you know, she's had twelve articles on the Integration of Magical and Muggle Medicine published in the last year alone!"

"Wow," Draco enthused with every appearance of being impressed, "she has been a busy woman then."

"But not so busy that she can't spare the time to chat to me," Alan smiled, a note of pride in his voice.

"I really must make time to catch up with her," Draco murmured almost to himself, "I wonder what's been happening in her life – apart from her academic success of course."

Alan just smiled and then to Hermione's slight surprise and relief, asked, "So what about you? What are your plans now that you have returned to Britain? I mean a nice young lad like yourself must have plenty of options open to him."

Draco gave a low and slightly cynical laugh, "Oh plenty," he agreed, "but I won't be taking any of the offers up just yet. I've other things to do first."

"Oh?" Alan's curiosity seemed to be getting the better of him.

"Yes, I intend to marry… and very soon at that!" Behind the books, Hermione's eyes widened and she peered out at the two men with renewed interest – Marry? This was a surprise and not an unwelcome one – maybe now he would leave her be!

"And who's the lucky lady?" Alan's voice filtered through her thoughts and quickly she focused her attention back on the two men.

"Ah, that would be telling!" Draco leaned forward and lowered his voice, and for the first time she could remember, Hermione wished she had one of Fred and George's Extendable Ears to hand. Her hearing was sharp though, and she caught his next words easily enough.

"Between you and me, my bride to be is someone with whom you are already acquainted. I'll say no more for the time being, apart from the fact that our children will be one clever bunch of little witches and wizards."

"I see. But why all the secrecy?"

"Oh no reason, we need to sort a few things out before announcing our marriage."

"Hmmm, intriguing. Well, I wish you both the best of luck…" At that moment, the library doors were flung open by a slightly harassed looking medi-wizard carrying a pile of journals. Hermione knew that no more would be said about Draco's plans and she moved silently back to the desk at which she had been working, her mind spinning.

Sitting down, she pulled the heavy book she had been attempting to read earlier towards her, a smile playing about her mouth. Draco Malfoy to marry? That was the best news she had heard in weeks – now perhaps he would have less time to spend at the hospital and maybe even, given time, he would drop the Finance Directorship. Hermione smiled again, knowing this was very unlikely to happen but his marrying would be a definite comfort to her. It meant he would have better things to do than to annoy her on a regular basis… and as for Aurora! She sighed with relief; Aurora would be safe as all his energies would be concentrated on his new wife and children, and not in trying to discover the whereabouts of a child of whose existence he was unaware.

Finally Hermione was able to turn her thoughts back to her report, but with a much lighter heart. Now maybe at last things could go back to normal and she could get a decent night's sleep at long last. She bent her head, and grinning once more, started to write.


	6. Chapter 5

Authors Note: Sorry for the late update – I've rewritten parts of this chapter so many times it's ridiculous. The disclaimer can be found in the Prologue, and thanks to my beta for correcting my mistakes, as well as all the encouraging reviews I have received. Enjoy!

Chapter Five

"It's been far too long," Narcissa protested with a sigh while gazing balefully at her son from amidst the roaring flames. "Honestly, how much trouble is it to floo me once in a while?"

From his crouched position in front of the study fireplace, Draco simply shrugged. "Well, you know what it's like," he excused, "too much work and not enough time to do anything else – and the time difference doesn't really help either."

"No, I see that, but I hardly ever get to speak to you these days," she sighed wistfully, "and like it or not, I worry about you. Why don't you come back to America? After all, it's a far nicer place than Britain, and the girls here are also very nice. Why just the other day…."

Swiftly Draco intervened, "Mother, we've been over this time and time again over the last two months! I'm happy here. OK, the manor can be a bit lonely at times, but Aunt Andromeda is here, and so are all my friends. Besides…" He broke off and shrugged.

Unfortunately for him, Narcissa noticed his hesitation and widening her eyes, asked "Besides?"

"Nothing." Came the abrupt reply. Trust his mother to notice the slightest slip – he would have to be careful not to let her suspect anything. He wondered how swiftly he could end this conversation without seeming rude and shot a surreptitious glance at the ornate clock sitting on the mantelpiece. He still had plenty to do before going to bed and this inquisition from his mother was doing nothing to help his temper.

Narcissa said nothing for a moment but looked intently into his face, her eyes unreadable. Then she said in a deceptively quiet voice, "Call it a mother's intuition if you will, but I get the impression there's something important that you have neglected to tell me. Your Aunt hinted there was something when we last spoke a week ago, but Andromeda being Andromeda, decided it wasn't any of her business to pry – as if!" She gave a derisive snort and shook her head, "The day Andromeda leaves something alone because it has nothing to do with her, will be the day that I grow wings. So come on, out with it, what's the real reason you don't want to leave Britain?"

Draco had absolutely no intention of revealing his real reason for wanting to remain in Britain, so he cast around for a plausible excuse, "I told you," he repeated, trying to keep the impatience from his voice, "it's simply that I'm happy here – I'm on the board of Directors of Cymdrim Cauldrons, Nimbus Brooms, and Hanwell's Hospital; these three boards keep me busy enough. Merlin knows that the Malfoy name needs the prestige these positions bring – thanks to father, the name's still viewed with suspicion in certain circles."

"Draco, please don't speak ill of the dead," Narcissa remonstrated, "it has been eight years since his death and I think you'll find that people have short memories."

Draco let out a short bark of laughter before saying, "Sometimes I wonder which reality you are living in Mother. Maybe in America, people have short memories, but not in Britain. It's no secret that father was a Death Eater, and no matter how you look at it, mud sticks. It's easier for you – you're no longer a Malfoy – Narcissa Black Fits-Gerald has more leeway than Narcissa Black Malfoy anywhere; but I'm stuck with Malfoy and I'll be damned before I let my children grow up with the stigma of father's stupidity hanging over them."

There was a silence and Narcissa eyed her son warily. "Is it really that bad?" she asked quietly, "I rather got the impression that most people were of the view that you shouldn't be punished for your father's sins. Why Steven was just saying only the other day that one of his associates – I can't remember who, had written to you asking that you become a shareholder in his company."

"Yes, that would be Tom Lindon – he heads Lindon Wands."

Narcissa nodded, "Well, according to Steven you declined – the man wasn't very happy about that."

"No, I bet he wasn't." Draco replied raising a cynical eyebrow.

"Well, there you go then – proof that the Malfoy name still commands a certain respect. Draco, you're worrying for nothing – of course there are people who'll hold your father's mistakes against you, but they are a minority and certainly not worth bothering about. Dumbledore trusts you, you get on well with everyone who is anyone at the ministry, so what's the problem?"

Draco frowned in thought, his mother was right of course, thanks to his efforts over the past few years, the Malfoy name had regained the respect it had once commanded; now people were clambering for his patronage on various charities and he had to turn down several offers of directorship on the boards of various companies due to lack of time. "There're other reasons," he procrastinated, "I can't simply up and leave – it would be unfair on the companies for which I hold directorships. Plus, I enjoy the work."

"There're plenty of such posts to be had here," Narcissa dismissed airily, "unless," now her eyes widened and a slow smile Draco didn't like started to cross her face, "it isn't a girl by any chance, is it? Someone to whom you have taken a fancy?"

"Mother!" he exclaimed, not meeting her eyes, "Stop being so dramatic. What is it with you and this fixation you have about me getting married?"

"You haven't answered my questions," Narcissa smirked, knowing well that Draco was trying to deflect her attention, "Well? Is it a girl? Someone you've met and of whose existence Andromeda is aware? That would account for all those knowing smirks during our last floo conversation – the woman was positively oozing smugness!"

Draco didn't quite manage to conceal his sigh of exasperation as he wondered who was worse; his mother whose only thought was to get him married and procreating so she could have grandchildren to spoil, or his aunt with her twisted brand of logic which could make a fully grown Hungarian Horntail squirm.

"Look," he began, but Narcissa cut in excitedly, "So what's she like? Tall, short? Is she pretty? She must be – knowing you… but tell me everything! I want to know all!"

"Middling," he said irritably – anything to stop his mother's excited chatter, "Are you satisfied now?"

"Certainly not," came the brisk response, "you have as yet told me nothing of her."

"That's because there's no Her as you put it. Honestly, I thought that I'd find some peace when I moved back here, but no, things are just the same. It's getting late mother, so I'll bid you good night."

Narcissa knew that she wasn't going to get any more out of him – at least not when he was in this mood. Smiling, she nodded, "Take care, and make sure to floo me soon, good night then."

With a small pop, her head disappeared from the fire, leaving Draco quite alone.

He sat back, savouring the peace of the study and marvelling afresh at his mother's determination to get him married. How right she had been when she had suggested a woman as his reason for remaining Britain – if only she knew! He smirked imagining the look of horror that would cross his mother's face if she knew of the methods he intended to employ to make her future daughter-in-law amenable to his way of thinking.

Draco chuckled softly as he got to his feet, stretching. His father had done him one good turn, passing on to him all the cunning he possessed. He was determined to get his own way, which would serve the dual purpose of giving him what he wanted, and pleasing his mother, and if that meant putting into use all the qualities Slytherins were famous for, then so be it. Grinning broadly, he left the room, intending to do some work before bed.

XoXoXoXo

Draco leaned forward watching with interest as Annabelle Mullings put the finishing touches to a plastercine house sitting on the table before her.

"All done," she announced, sitting back and viewing her handy work with satisfaction, "now we can make the people for it – a Mummy and a Daddy and a baby."

Across the table, Aurora sat gazing thoughtfully at the house, her chin cupped in her hand. Then turning to the other occupants of the table she suggested, "We should have a gawarge for the house. My gwan and gwandad have a gawarge, and it's vewy big. The baby can play in there."

"No," Annabelle retorted scathingly, "the baby'll have a playroom, silly! Anyway, my mummy says that your mummy and gran and granddad are all muggles, and this is a wizard's house, so we don't want a garage which muggles use!"

For a moment Aurora pondered Annabelle's words and then burst out, "Mummy isn't a muggle! She has a wand and everwything so there!"

"Yes, she is a muggle!" Annabelle argued back, the house in front of her forgotten as she glared across at Aurora, hands on her hips, "You said she can't ride a broom."

"She can!" Aurora defended hotly, "she just doesn't like widing bwooms! Not evewyone does, you know!"

Annabelle just laughed and then sneered, "Mummy says that she should be ashamed because she wasn't married when she had you and you don't have a daddy!"

"I do!" Aurora retorted, eyes flashing and face flushed, pushing her chair back and jumping to her feet, "Mummy says he died in the war!" Her hands were now clenched at her sides, her small body rigid with tension.

"Annabelle, that's enough," Draco intervened swiftly, "say sorry to Aurora now!"

"I shan't!" came the belligerent retort, "My mummy says she is a mud…."

Her words were cut off by Draco slamming his hand on the table making the three children sitting round it jump. "Never, never say that word in my hearing again," he said, as he towered over Annabelle's small figure, "Do you understand me?"

Annabelle looked up at him, her lower lip starting to tremble, "I….I didn't mean…" she stammered, having quickly lost all her previous bravado and staring white-faced at Draco's angry face.

"Apologise!" he repeated.

"Sorry Aurora," Annabelle murmured, not looking at her.

Draco sighed as he stepped back from the little girl; if today's little display was anything to go by, Annabelle's family must be from the handful who valued purity of blood more than anything else. As yet, she was still a child who was simply relaying the words of one of her elders – she didn't understand what it was she was saying; but how long would it be before she adopted these values for her own? No doubt by the time she reached the age of eleven, she would hate all muggleborns without knowing why.

He suppressed a shiver – the situation of the little girl cowering before him, was only too familiar to him. "Annabelle," he continued trying hard to keep the tremor of rage from his voice, "that word you were just about to say isn't a very nice word. It doesn't matter who someone's parents are, you still have to treat them nicely."

At this point Jenny Finnegan, who had remained quiet until now, chipped in, "My daddy says that people who think about blood and nothing else are scum."

Draco bit back a groan, "Jenny, that's really not helpful. Is it ever right to call people names?" he asked.

Jenny shook her head averting her eyes.

"Right, it isn't," Draco affirmed. "I think we've heard more than enough of our parents' opinions for one day; come on, have you made the people for the house yet?"

Annabelle and Jenny both turned their attention to the plastercine before them, but Aurora sat glaring at Annabelle, her eyes stormy and narrowed with dislike. Draco felt a twinge of unease go through him as he watched her; her expression reminded him of one of his childhood photographs in which he had been very angry. His eyes too, had been narrowed, darkening to the exact shade as could be seen in hers. According to Narcissa, he had been plotting revenge at the time and he now wondered what was going through Aurora's mind as she sat fiddling with the plastercine in front of her, but not really seeing it. Soon, however, she was helping the other two make people to put into the house and for reasons he could not explain, he breathed a sigh of relief.

The next half an hour passed without incident and the house was finished. Soon, it was time for the children to go outside and play in the nursery garden. All were excited as they went out into the warm sunshine and as far as Draco could deduce, the earlier argument between Annabelle and Aurora was forgotten.

Standing beside his Aunt, Draco surveyed the walled garden which was carpeted with lush green grass. Around the garden were various play areas. On one side of the garden, a sand pit had been dug out, the yellow sand glistening in the sun. Three swings and a slide sat opposite the sand pit, their bars gleaming in the sunlight. A pile of toy brooms lay beside the sand pit, and scattered here and there were tricycles, cars and carriages, and some ever-bashing boomerangs.

"Another beautiful day," Andromeda remarked, watching the children at play, "it looks like it's going to be a hot summer."

"Hmm," Draco hummed absently, as his eyes followed the figures of Aurora and Annabelle as they made their way over to the toy broomsticks, "tell me, what do you know about Annabelle's family?"

"Not much. But as you're probably aware, the Mullings' are an old family, who remained neutral during the war."

"I know the Mullings were neutral; but what I meant was what are Annabelle's parents like?"

"Oh, I've only met Annabelle's father a handful of times, but her mother comes to drop her off and pick her up from nursery. She seems nice enough, although she's a bit picky about Annabelle's friends. I think she's concerned about the purity of their blood," Andromeda shrugged. "Honestly, it never fails to amaze me how some people hold on to such ridiculously stupid ideas. You'd think that after the war, sentiments like that would die out."

Draco didn't seem to have heard his aunt's comments. "It fits," he muttered absently.

"Pardon?" Andromeda turned to her nephew. Briefly, Draco told her of the argument that had taken place between the girls earlier. When he had finished, she sighed, "You can't blame the child, she's simply repeating her mother's words – although I do wish she had argued with someone other than Aurora."

"Why?" Draco asked, intrigued.

"Although Aurora possesses a sweet exterior, she's one that knows how to carry a grudge. Annabelle insulted her mother and it's not likely that she'll forgive nor forget that. You laugh, but that's how it is with that girl." She shook her head at Draco's chuckle, whilst observing the child with the head of chestnut curls on the play-broom. Musingly, she added, "I sometimes wonder if there isn't any Slytherin blood in her makeup; she can be quite manipulative when it suits her purpose."

"Oh for Merlin's sake," he grinned, "The girl can't be more than five years old – what do kids of that age know about carrying grudges and insults?"

Andromeda let out a laugh of her own, "Clearly your memory isn't all that it once was. Don't you remember your fifth birthday party when Millicent Bulstrode blew out all your candles before you had the chance to do so? You were positively livid but covered it up with a smile. Then, half an hour later, when everyone else had forgotten about the incident, you tripped Millicent up and caused her to roll into the lake! Everyone thought it was an accident, but I saw how it happened, you were certainly a sly one!"

"I wasn't five when that incident took place," Draco defended himself, "I distinctly remember being at least ten. Anyway she deserved it!"

"No, you were five," his Aunt shook her head, "I have photographs if you don't believe me – I'll show them to you."

Trying not to cringe, he muttered hastily, "That won't be necessary." Then changing the subject, he asked, "Do you think it likely that Aurora will do something to retaliate?"

"Yes," came the succinct response, "she has a memory like an elephant, that one. The fact that Annabelle's claim about her muggle parentage isn't true, will only add fuel to the fire."

"Really? So her mother isn't a muggle then?" Draco asked curiosity getting the better of him.

"No, far from it. I do not know her well; she is quite reserved. I don't know, perhaps it's partly caused by her job."

"Why? What does she do?"

"She's a Healer at Hanwell's Hospital."

At this his expression lightened and he smiled, "In that case, I probably know of her; if not by face, then certainly by name, who …" At that moment a loud wail filled the air. Turning, Draco saw Jack Creevy, a freckly boy with mousy hair, trying to tug the toy broom Aurora had been playing with, from her hand. Aurora's face was screwed up in effort as she clung to the broom determinedly.

"What's going on here?" Andromeda asked, as she hurried over and pried a panting Jack away from the Broome.

"She won't give me the broom, and she's been playing wiv it for ages!" an irate Jack shouted. "I said please but she still wouldn't give it to me."

"I had it first," Aurora yelled back, "I told him I wanted to play with it, but he twied to pull it away!"

"You've been playing wiv it for ages, it's my turn!" Jack retorted, glowering.

To his surprise, Draco saw that Aurora's lower lip had started to tremble and that tears glistened in her eyes. Blinking them back, she muttered, "You have a bwoom at home that you and your daddy wide. My Mummy doesn't wide bwooms and won't let me have one, so I want to play with it here."

"Jack," Andromeda broke in, forestalling the small boy's protests, "I tell you what, you have this special broom the blue handle," she picked up another one lying abandoned on the grass and offered it to the boy who looked very reluctant, "and Aurora, you carry on playing with that one." As an aside, she turned to Jack and feigned a whisper, "you don't really want to ride that broom, do you, Jack? It has a heart-sticker on the handle. Now this blue broom, it's a good-looking _boy's_ broom. Isn't this much better?"

Jack brightened up a bit at that, and went off to play, his good mood restored.

"_Boy's_ broom, eh?" Draco teased in a whisper.

"I know it fosters gender bias and all that, but if it helps," she shrugged, grinning.

The adults then turned to the little girl still holding onto the broomstick. "I'll deal with this," Draco told his Aunt, freeing her to go and monitor the other children in the playground.

"Are you ok, Aurora?" Draco knelt down to look into the face of the little girl standing solemnly before him. Her face was still flushed and tearstains could be seen on her cheeks, making something inside him squirm. Of the four times he had visited the nursery since she had joined, this was the first that he had seen tears on her face. He felt a feeling of protectiveness sweep over him and in a bright voice suggested, "Tell you what, why don't we go inside and wash your face? We'll take the broom as well – how's that? Then no one else will be able to play with it while you aren't here."

"OK," Aurora sniffed, picking up the decorated end of the toy broom and starting to drag it across the grass.

Relieved that she had not protested, Draco took her hand and led her across the garden filled with the shouts of excited children, and into the quiet nursery. He bathed her face in cool water, gently washing away the tearstains on her face and then asked casually, "So do you like flying then?"

Immediately, Aurora's expression lightened and she looked up at him in wide-eyed eagerness, "Oh yes! It's my bestest thing ever!"

"Really?" he responded, taking care to keep the curiosity out of his voice. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare this child, who for the first time in their acquaintance, was looking at him with something bordering on interest.

"Yes, weally!" she smiled up at him as she spoke, her earlier tears forgotten. "It's bwilliant! So much better than widing a bike or a car!" she enthused excitedly. "But Mummy doesn't like flying at all," she pouted, her face fell back into the despondent expression she had sported in the garden.

"Why doesn't Mummy like it?" Draco asked gently, as he sat down with Aurora on his lap.

"She says it is dangewous and that I could get hurt," she replied, then looked up at Draco indignantly, "but evewyone wides bwooms!"

Draco chuckled, "Yes, that's true." He wondered what kind of mother would stop her child from doing something she so clearly enjoyed. If she was a witch as his Aunt had said, then surely she would understand the importance of brooms in the wizarding world.

He had to bite back a smile as slowly, a plan began to take shape in his mind. He thought back to the countless times he had tried to engage this child in play or conversation but all to no avail. When she had deigned to speak to him, which was rare, it was to tell him to go away or pass her something. Draco didn't like being rebuffed – not by anyone, and certainly not by a five-year-old miss. This child was the only one of the twelve preschoolers who inhabited the nursery who had not opened up to him; and try as he might, he could not understand why. He admitted to himself that he was drawn to her more so than the others; she seemed so innocent and unspoiled by the cruel outside world, looking as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, but at the same time she harboured many traits which he could only describe as Slytherin in nature. He had seen for himself the way she smiled sweetly as she took the leading role in any game, and how other children tried not to get onto her bad side. His Aunt certainly had a point when she said that she wouldn't be surprised if Aurora had some Slytherin blood in her.

He looked down into Aurora's face; she was looking up at him her grey eyes fixed unblinkingly on his face. Then, as though coming to a decision she asked, "Do you wide a bwoom, Uncle?"

"Yes, I certainly do," he responded and waited.

There was a long pause as she sat and chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip, a cute gesture that seemed familiar to Draco somehow. "Will you teach me to wide?" she finally asked in a small voice, "I mean wide a real bwoom – not like this toy one." Pleadingly, she added, "Mummy would teach me, but she doesn't like flying, and my uncles are always too busy…"

"Uncles?" he prompted her with a smile. _'Now, we're getting somewhere,'_ he thought in amusement. "Your mother's brothers?"

Aurora returned his gaze uncomprehendingly and shook her head. "No," she replied slowly, looking as if Draco had the comprehension level of a three-year-old, "Mummy doesn't have any bwother or sister, just like me. My uncles are Mummy's fwiends, and they all like coming to our house to play with me."

Draco's suspicions regarding these 'uncles' were raised. Just what kind of woman was Aurora's mother if the child had lots of these so-called 'uncles' coming over to 'play'_? 'I wonder just who these 'uncles' play with when they go over to her house,'_ he mused. His opinion of the faceless woman who was this little girl's mother slipped a few more notches. And his Aunt had said she was a Healer! _'It just goes to show how we really can't tell with people,'_ he thought snidely. Biting back a derisive snort, he once more focused on the face upturned to his.

"Sorry," he apologised, putting aside his speculations about Aurora's home life or lack thereof. "So you want me to teach you to fly?"

"Yes, please! On a real bwoom!"

Draco paused and pretended to consider her request. "Well, I think I might be able to find the time to teach you to fly… but only if you promise to do exactly as I tell you…"

Before Draco could complete his sentence, he was engulfed by Aurora's loud squeal and her enthusiastic hug. Draco made a silent vow as he returned her hug; even If it killed him, he would make sure that this sweet child not only enjoyed herself learning to fly, he would ensure that she was protected and safe. From what he had deduced from their conversation, she did not seem to have much of a home life. Her mother seemed to spend all her time entertaining men rather than look after her daughter; it was a wonder that Aurora turned out to be such a delightful girl. Draco looked down once more into her eager face, and felt a wave of righteous anger hit him. People like this poor child's mother should be banned from having children! Especially children like this one, whose innocence seemed to radiate from them.

Aurora's voice pulled him from his thoughts, "Can we wide now then? Please, I will be good, pwomise! Can we wide now, please?"

"I don't see why not," he replied, standing up and leading her into the office where Andromeda did all her paper work. He knew that she kept a few old Cleansweeps in here, in case of emergencies. Unlocking the cupboard that stood in one corner of the small room with a deft flick of his wand, he took out a rather dated, but working model.

Beside him, Aurora was hopping from foot to foot in excitement. "Come on," she cried, tugging at his sleeve, "let's go outside and fly!"

Smiling, Draco relocked the cupboard, and followed her as she ran out of the office and down the hallway. "I think we should use the terrace at the back of the building," he called, and reaching her side, proceeded to unlock the large door leading out onto the small sun-drenched terrace.

"We never come here," Aurora observed, as they stepped out on to the flagstones. The terrace was small with tubs of flowers sitting on one side. Draco knew his Aunt sat here sometimes when doing her paperwork, but other than that, the terrace was rarely used.

"True, that's because this place's too small to play in,", he explained and turned to her. "Now remember, you must do _exactly_ as I tell you, ok?"

She nodded earnestly and he began to teach her how to kick off from the ground. She was a fast learner and a natural, considering her mother's fear of flying and that her father had been a muggle. They hovered a few feet from the ground, his arm securely round her as she pointed the broom handle downwards and they descended once more, until their feet touched the ground.

Time past as Aurora soaked up everything Draco taught her. It was only the sound of the other children re-entering the hallway from the garden that made him look up. "We're going to have to leave it there for today," he said, the regret evident in his voice, "Did you enjoy that, Aurora?"

"Oh yes," she grinned, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, "Soon, I'll be as good as Annabelle on a bwoom – that will show her!" Then in a quiet voice, she added, "This is our secwet, ok?"

Draco blinked in surprise, but nodded in agreement. "OK, but don't you want to tell your mummy about your flying lessons?" he asked.

"No!" she answered with determination, shaking her head, "Mummy'll stop me, she'll say it is too dangewous and I want to fly with you again!"

He smiled and ruffled her curls affectionately, "Ah, but your Mummy's only looking out for you." Still the child was probably right, the mother sounded like the type who would stop her daughter from enjoying herself, and anyway, what was the harm in what they were doing? He wasn't about to give up this hard won respect from this sweet child just to pacify the whims of some woman who seemed to put her own desires before those of her child. "But if you really feel that we'll need to keep our flying lessons a secret… fair enough, we'll fly on Thursdays when I'm here. How's that sound?"

"That sounds fantastic!" she squealed, "When evewyone else is playing in the garden, we'll come here and fly!"

"That's fine by me," Draco grinned, feeling exultant. He knew he had won a battle today, one he had been fighting ever since he had first met this precocious child. It was a good feeling to know that she would no longer view him with something akin to indifference.

XoXoXoXo

Aurora stood well back as Annie smilingly gestured for them to come forward and stroke the baby hippogriff. "Come on," she encouraged, "it won't bite. We can make a lovely story about Hippogriffs, now won't that be nice?"

Draco frowned at Annie's plump figure as she stood, cradling the small inky black creature in her arms. Around them, the other children were also looking wary, and many had retreated, pressing themselves against their parents. Only a handful of brave ones had stepped tentatively forward, clutching the hands of their parents for reassurance.

Draco wondered if bringing the children to this 'story telling session' had been such a good idea after all, but Andromeda had insisted on it, saying it would be good for them to get out of the nursery and do something a bit different. He knew this was a regular outing for the preschoolers, that his aunt arranged once every few months. Flourish and Blotts were renowned for their interactive story telling sessions held once a month. The sessions were always sold out, for children from all over the UK as well as some parts of Western Europe attended them. Sometimes bookings had to be made up to a year in advance as the sessions were so popular.

Draco glanced down at Aurora, who looked fearfully up at him. Squatting down, he hugged her as he reassured her, "It's ok, you don't have to stroke it if you don't want to."

"I don't like it," came the muffled response for she had buried her face in his shoulder, "it's got long sharp things on its legs."

"It won't hurt you," he soothed the child, rubbing his hand along her back, "I tell you what, why don't we just look at it?" Gently he prised her away from him and turned her to face the Hippogriff while hugging her tightly. "See, I'm right here with you. I won't let the Hippogriff hurt you."

For a moment he felt her shrink against him, her hands coming up to cover her eyes, but gradually as he sat holding her, her fear gave way to curiosity and she lowered her hands to stare at the Hippogriff lying docilely in Annie's arms.

"Why has it got those sharp things?" she asked warily.

"They're called talons," he informed her, while suppressing a shiver himself. He remembered only too well what the talons of a fully-grown hippogriff were capable of, but he wouldn't think of that now. "They protect the Hippogriff just as your shoes protect your feet from getting hurt." He gave her an encouraging smile and once more silently cursed her mother for not being there with her.

Aurora's mother should be here with her child – not elsewhere doing only Merlin knew what, but she had cried off at the last minute saying something had cropped up and she wouldn't be able to make it to the story session until late in the afternoon. He thought back to the night before, when his Aunt, desperate for someone to take the woman's place, had enlisted his help. He was free that morning, so he had willingly agreed to step in.

Aurora frowned and took a tentative step forward, so as to get a better look at the talons on the Hippogriff's legs. Staring at it from the safety of Draco's arms, she said, "Mummy says Hippo… Hippogwiffs are nice. She never said anything about tal… talons."

"Well, Hippogriffs can be nice if you're nice to them," Draco agreed, "you just have to be careful to be polite to them. Otherwise they might hurt you."

"Weally?" she asked, "If I'm nice to it, it won't hurt me? Will it be my fwiend?"

"Well, I don't know about that," he replied biting back a grin, "it isn't a person so it can't really be your friend."

She thought about that for a moment and then piped up, "But Mummy says she flew on a Hippogwiff before and that Hippogwiff was her fwiend."

'I'll bet she did,' Draco mentally snorted. Despite his prejudice thoughts regarding Aurora's mother, he said, "Well, then, if your Mummy rode a Hippogriff, it means that a Hippogriff can't be that bad, can it?"

At his encouragement, Aurora took another tentative step forward, still cradled in Draco's arms. She was now within five feet of the Hippogriff and he saw the curiosity warring with her fear of the creature.

"Come on," he smiled, "We'll stroke it together, all right?"

"Both of us?" she asked, seeking reassurance.

"Yes, both of us," he affirmed, and getting to his feet he drew her forward to stand less than a foot away from the Hippogriff.

"Good girl, Aurora," Annie smiled down at her, "would you like to stroke Donfen?"

Aurora hesitated and drew back slightly.

"Come on Angel," Draco encouraged, "we'll stroke it together, ok?"

Aurora nodded, and Draco, taking her hand, proceeded to lay their joined hands on the Hippogriff's smooth back.

"Well done!" Annie praised, "You are a brave girl!"

Aurora growing bolder extracted her hand from Draco's and began to stroke the Hippogriff's feather-covered back. "It's so soft," she said in wonder, "and look, its feathers are so dark. Why?"

"Because its mummy and daddy's feathers are dark and so it has dark feathers too," Annie explained. "It's just like you and your daddy. You have your daddy's grey eyes and pale skin; look, you even have your daddy's long fingers," She pointed at the pair of hands stroking the Hippogriff.

Behind Aurora, Draco froze in place. He drew in a sharp breath which went unnoticed by either female. By Merlin, the woman had thought that he was Aurora's father! _'If only,'_ he thought cynically. It was impossible, though – the only woman with whom he had not used any contraceptive charms was Hermione, and it was unlikely that he would have fathered a child without his knowledge. Moreover, Hermione had told him in no uncertain terms that she had no children and was never likely to_. 'She probably hates children,'_ he thought with a twinge of unexplained disappointment. He gritted his teeth in anger as he thought of the night she had told him this, the look of utter horror on her face when he had asked what old Edward Hamersley had meant by her little chit, had been branded in his memory forever.

Brushing his thoughts aside, he focused his attention once more on Aurora and watched as she stroked the baby Hippogriff, all nervousness gone. He was certainly not about to disabuse Annie of her assumption and smiled brilliantly.

Aurora however had no such hesitations and began, "But my daddy's…"

Swiftly, Draco broke in, "Darling, other people want to look at the Hippogriff as well, why don't we go and do something else?"

Distracted, Aurora nodded, and looking down at the Hippogriff informed it, "I have to go now Donfen, but I will be back later."

Both Draco and Annie exchanged a smile. Taking Aurora's hand, Draco led her away from the hippogriff.

XoXoXoXo

It was two hours later and the children sat enthralled as Annie pirouetted before them re-enacting the story she was telling. From his position at the back of the group, Draco stifled a yawn and glancing at his Aunt standing beside him, raised his eyebrows. "They seem to be enjoying themselves, but I'll have to leave soon," he whispered.

In reply she shook her head, "You can't – I'll be one adult short if you do."

Draco glanced at his watch and saw that he had less than ten minutes before the start of his meeting at the Headquarters of Cyndrim Cauldrons. Nodding to the door, he made his silent way out of the room and leaned against an open window set high in the corridor outside. A warm breeze wafted over him, bringing in the scent of freshly cut grass.

A moment later, Andromeda appeared, looking worried. "I'm sorry about this…" she started, but Draco shrugged and cut her off.

"Don't worry about it, the world won't end if I'm slightly late for the meeting. I'm not chairing it anyway. But what's the bet that Aurora's mother won't turn up?"

"She said she would," his aunt frowned, "she was most distressed last night when she flooed me to say she couldn't come in this morning, even though she really wanted to. She didn't want Aurora to miss this session for the child's been looking forward to this for ages."

"Really?" Draco drawled sceptically, "No doubt she has other _'entertainment'_ planned for the afternoon."

"Exactly what do you mean by that?" Andromeda asked, raising her eyebrows at his insinuation.

"Well," he shrugged, "a single mother… you do the maths."

"Draco! Just because she's a single mother is no reason to think that of her! She's gone through a great deal to bring Aurora up. I don't believe for a minute that juggling a career and bringing up a child all by herself has been an easy task. She was very brave to do it, and wizarding views like yours," she frowned, "makes it so much harder for both mother _and_ daughter to deal with their situation. Anyway, she was married when she had Aurora, the husband died in the war."

Draco snorted in disgust, whether she had been married or not, made no difference. In his opinion the woman was unfit to be a mother and that was the be all and end all of the matter. "My dear Aunt," he drawled with a roll of his eyes, "the woman is _completely_ irresponsible. Did you know that Aurora has lots of 'uncles'? Before you interrupt," he checked his Aunt's protest by raising a hand, "I checked – the woman has no siblings. So, these men that hang around at their house – what could they possibly be doing there? You yourself have mentioned something about how our community view single parents; tell me, Aunt, what could these men _possibly_ want with a single mother?"

Draco's insinuation hung heavily in the air. It was not at all difficult to see what he was getting at. Nonetheless, Andromeda could not believe that of the quiet serious young woman who was Aurora's mother.

"Those men are probably her friends—"

Draco snorted, "Yeah, right."

"—and they could very well be giving her the support she needs."

"I know what kind of support, all right," Draco sneered. "You know Aunt, I sometimes wonder which world you reside in. It is obvious what the woman is a…"

"Draco, that is enough!" Andromeda hissed, the anger evident in her voice, "you've never met her and you're basing your prejudice on nothing more than your own conjecture! You cannot go around prejudging her in any way! As far as I'm concerned, the woman is a good mother – in case it has escaped your notice, Aurora lacks for nothing; she's well-dressed, well-fed, and much loved! That's a lot more than many children can boast!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Draco began, but the sound of a slamming door in the distance checked him.

"Hush! I won't hear another word from you, that is probably her right now." She slapped Draco's arm, then turned to face the large door at the end of the corridor.

Draco could hear the sound of running footsteps coming closer, and then the door was thrown open. In the darkened corridor, he could not distinguish the features of the woman coming towards them as the light was coming from behind her. All he could see was a head of dark curly hair and the billowing silvery white wizarding robes worn by the Hanwell's healers. She must have just come here straight from work.

The woman skidded to a stop in front of his aunt, who stood between them, blocking Draco's view. "There you are," Andromeda greeted her warmly, "I must admit I was getting worried… oh, no need to look so worried, my dear, Aurora is perfectly fine. My nephew was good enough to step in at the last minute. He's been helping out at the nursery and is known to Aurora; in fact the two of them get on very well together, so everything's fine."

The panting woman seemed to sag with relief. "Oh, thank you so much, Andromeda. I would've been here about fifteen minutes ago, but there was a last minute emergency which I had to take care of," she gasped in a grateful, albeit breathless voice.

Moving past his aunt, Draco took a good look at the woman standing in front of her, just as she straightened up, flipping her hair behind her shoulders. His mouth fell open and his blood froze, his mind capable of only a single thought.

Hermione Granger was breathing heavily, eyes sparkling and face flushed – _glowing_ really, with the exercise of running down the corridor, while smiling gratefully at his Aunt.


	7. Chapter 6

Authors Note: You lot had better appreciate this chapter as I spent a whole afternoon I could have been sun bathing writing it. I'm gradually introducing my new system of separating scenes into all my chapters so bear with me. The disclaimer hasn't moved and still resides in the prologue and thanks as ever go to my beta and those of you who have taken the time to review. Let me know what you think of this chapter – it's always a pleasure to come home at the end of a long day at work arguing with my manager, to find encouraging reviews sitting in my inbox.

Chapter Six

Hermione skidded to a stop in front of Andromeda Tonks, conscious that her hair was in a mess even though she had tried to push it back and that her robes were rumpled. Worry clouded her face as she looked up at the woman standing before her. She knew she was rather late and hoped that Andromeda would understand when she explained. Opening her mouth to apologise, she closed it again when the other woman said, smiling,

"There you are! I must admit I was getting worried… oh, no need to look so worried, my dear, Aurora is perfectly fine. My nephew was good enough to step in at the last minute. He's been helping out at the nursery and is known to Aurora; in fact the two of them get on very well together, so everything's fine."

Heaving a sigh of relief, Hermione gasped out, "Oh, thank you so much, Andromeda. I'd have been here about fifteen minutes ago, but there was a last minute emergency which I had to take care of." She adjusted her slightly rumpled robes and pushed her hair back, taking a moment to assimilate Andromeda's words. When she did, she glanced at the older woman with a slight frown.

Nephew? This was the first time that Hermione had heard of any nephew of Andromeda's. She had always thought that they were well staffed at the nursery. The inconvenience Andromeda must have suffered when she had not been able to attend the morning's session made the feeling of guilt within her increase ten-fold.

A slight sound behind Andromeda interrupted Hermione's train of thought, and she turned her head. It was all she could do not to scream. Standing beside Andromeda, silhouetted against the light of the window behind him and with shock evident on his face, was Draco Malfoy.

Slowly and deliberately, Hermione closed her eyes; in a moment she would awake from this horrid nightmare and find herself in her own bed. Maybe she would get up and make herself a cup of hot chocolate to help her sleep – her mother always said that hot chocolate was the best weapon to combat nightmares. She took a deep breath and prepared to open her eyes; she would see the white ceiling of her bedroom when she opened them, and laugh at this ridiculous delusion her subconscious was creating.

Opening her eyes to their fullest extent, she refocused on the scene before her; Andromeda stood looking slightly perplexed and there beside her… No. It wasn't. It couldn't be – but it was. No one else she knew had that silvery blond hair or that aristocratic bearing. His eyes were currently boring into her face, the surprise having been replaced with dawning comprehension.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Andromeda asked, breaking the silence, "You've gone very pale."

"Yes," Hermione answered faintly, while bile rose up in her throat, "I'm fine, thank you, but I don't understand… He," she indicated Draco with a nod," He's your nephew?"

"Certainly," Andromeda smiled, "Draco is my sister, Narcissa's son. Do you know each other?"

"You could say that, Aunt," Draco bit out, fury such as Hermione had never seen before, taking the place of his earlier shock.

Andromeda glanced at her nephew with a frown. "Draco, please…"

"Aunt, I suggest you keep out of this," he warned with barely controlled fury.

Andromeda seemed to think better of her next words, and with an apologetic look at Hermione left them alone. Clearly she had experience with Draco's temper and did not relish being on the receiving end of it.

Hermione took a deep fortifying breath; she didn't know what Draco Malfoy was doing here – but if he thought to stalk her… Well, she'd just have to brazen it out with him. Hopefully, he wouldn't make the connection between her and Aurora - not if she could help it.

"Malfoy," she said in what she hoped was a cheerful voice, "I'm surprise to see you here – I wouldn't have thought nurseries were your thing."

"Let's skip the pleasantries, shall we?" he snarled, eyes narrowed. "Tell me Hermione, when were you planning to inform me about my daughter's existence, or did you think that you could avoid mentioning it?"

Daughter? Hermione blinked at these words, momentarily taken aback. Then it hit her – of course, Aurora was his biological daughter. Having never thought of the little girl as having anything to do with Draco Malfoy, it came as a surprise to her to have the obvious stated. She pulled herself up short; he had easily assumed Aurora's paternity, but for the child's safety she had to disabuse him of this and fast.

Widening her eyes, she took a step back and frowned at him, "What are you talking about Malfoy?" she asked, trying to infuse a note of incredulity into her voice.

Draco moved to stand in front of her, blocking out the light as well as her means of escape. She became aware of how tall he was, towering over her by a good eight inches.

"Don't play games with me Hermione; I'm not in the mood for them. We both know that Aurora is as much my child as she is yours. What I want to know is why you've neglected to inform me of this." His eyes glittered with icy anger, reminding her of the Arctic Ocean in winter. "Well?"

Hermione gulped. Squaring her shoulders, she met his eyes with determination and not a little anger. Speaking with the same quiet fury as he had done, she challenged, "My, my, aren't we a bit quick to jump to conclusions? Who says Aurora's yours, Malfoy?" She folded her arms, shook her head and continued with a smirk, "I hate to break it to you, but there've been other men in my life apart from you, and none of whom, I might add, needed to resort to potions to get me into bed. For your information, Aurora's father is a man whom I married soon after you did us all a favour and left for America." She infused a touch of sadness in her next words, "He died… he died in the war."

Draco however simply smirked and leaned forward until their foreheads were almost touching, "Really? How touching. But perhaps you can explain something for me. Tell me, how is it that Aurora has my eyes, my looks, and as Annie, the children's story-teller," he nodded to the closed door of the large room where the children were, "so kindly pointed out, even my fingers as well. This is of course not taking into account the famous Malfoy temper Aurora displays and her natural ability to fly! I suppose your late husband could very well be my twin, but I doubt such a doppelganger could exist without anyone's knowledge!"

Hermione gave an inward groan; he was right, of course. Everything he had pointed out was true: Aurora did indeed have his eyes, his facial bone structure, as well as his traits, which Hermione could only describe as Slytherin in nature. Still, he did not have irrefutable proof to justify his claim, and she would do everything in her power to counter his arguments.

Trying to look exasperated, she rolled her eyes, "Oh for heavens sake, Malfoy, you aren't the only grey eyed wizard in Great Britain! I'll have you know, Aurora takes after her paternal grandmother in looks! As for my daughter's temper – your so-called 'Malfoy temper'—" she snorted, her voice dripping with contempt, "that's simply because she's rather spoiled and used to getting her own way! Any child doted upon as she is would certainly be the same!"

Success! She thought with an inward smile. Draco's expression darkened with doubt – but not for long.

"Well, if that's the case, I'm sure you won't mind if I carry out a simple paternity test. You'll understand if I'd rather find out for myself rather than rely upon your word," he sneered.

Horror flooded Hermione at this thought; he couldn't, he wouldn't! But one look at his set face told her that he was perfectly serious about carrying out his threat.

He carried on, "It shouldn't take too long. Both Aurora and I will only need to submit a blood sample, and the results can be obtained in minutes, as you well know. Then we'll put this delightful conversation to rest once and for all."

"No!" Hermione blurted out, her temporary bravado deserting her, and her fear for her daughter almost choking her, "No, I won't allow it. Aurora's my daughter. She shouldn't have to draw blood for… for… for some despicable wizard's insatiable curiosity! My baby's only four and a half years old! If you feel the need to make anyone's life a misery, don't pick on an innocent child who's done nothing to you!"

At her vehement words, Draco straightened, his expression blackening until his eyes were mere slits and his mouth a hard line. "What kind of person do you think I am?" he asked in such a quiet voice that she had to strain to hear him, "Do you really think I'd harm my own flesh and blood?"

She recoiled at the look of pure unadulterated anger in his eyes. She hesitated, unsure of what to say, fearful of what he would do next.

"I'll tell you what you thought," he snarled, bitter disappointment lacing his words, "you thought that I'd deliberately harm my own child because she wasn't a pureblood, didn't you?"

Hermione averted her eyes from his and didn't answer. If only Ron or Harry were here! she thought, they would help her. But there was no aid available to her – she was alone. She wanted to run away and hide from this man, but she knew it would be futile – he would easily catch up with her, and she could never leave Aurora behind.

Draco broke their prolonged silence, surprising her out of her reverie. "I would never harm her you know," he sighed, taking a step away from Hermione and turning towards the window. Looking back at Hermione, who was leaning against the wall, arms rapped protectively round herself, he continued in the same tone, "You and I have a lot of talking to do – I'll visit you this evening." His voice suddenly hardened, "I suggest for your sake that you be at home, without any of your sidekicks present, or else I won't be answerable for the consequences." With that, he turned away, striding off down the deserted corridor his robes billowing behind him.

Staggering over to the window where he had stood, Hermione gripped the sill, breathing hard in order to keep her tears at bay. What now? What could she do? What if he tried to take Aurora away from her? He had wealth and connections – he could easily use them to legally get what he wanted and then what was to become of her? Aurora was her entire world!

No. There must be a way to stop Malfoy. She needed to pull herself together before this evening. She would plan. She would strategise. If need be, she would even run away with Aurora… only, she didn't know where she'd go. No matter, she'd think about it later. Straightening her robes, she scrubbed at her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her raging thoughts. Once she felt in control of her emotions, she turned her mind towards the heavy door. Whatever may come, she needed to be with Aurora now. The child's emotional well-being must be protected and it certainly would not do for Aurora to see her mother in this state.

Hermione pushed open the door into the large room, which Andromeda had entered not five minutes ago. The sight of the twelve children clustered round a baby hippogriff in the arms of a plump woman did nothing to lighten her mood. Forcing a smile, she easily spotted the figure of her daughter, noticeable in her red and white shorts and t-shirt, stroking the hippogriff and talking to it.

"Aurora!" she called cheerfully, making her way over to the girl and tapping her on the shoulder.

Aurora turned her head and on seeing who it was, smiled brilliantly. "Mummy, mummy, do you like Donfen? He is a hippogwiff and my fwiend! Look, he likes it when I stwoke him."

She proceeded to run her hands over the Hippogriff's gleaming feathers and the creature didn't move under her touch.

"Hmm… yes," Hermione nodded, smiling genuinely this time.

"He's vewy nice and look, his feathers are so dark, just like his daddy and mummy!" Aurora grinned back, putting her arms around the baby Hippogriff's back and hugging it.

"He certainly seems to have taken a liking to Aurora," the woman holding the Hippogriff told Hermione with a smile, "he's not normally so still when hugged; then again, most children aren't as confident around Hippogriffs – for that you'll have to thank your husband for reassuring Aurora."

"Oh, no," Hermione tried to explain, "He's not my hus—"

"Aurora move!" Annabelle Mullings interrupted loudly, as she tried to push Aurora aside, clutching her mother's hand and dragging her forward.

Aurora simply stood firm against the other girl, and informed Hermione in a carrying voice, "Annabelle is angwy because Donfen doesn't like her and she's scared of him."

"Am not!" Annabelle shouted, her cheeks flaming red.

"Oh yes, you are," Aurora taunted, enjoying Annabelle's discomfort, "Why are you still holding your mummy's hand then? Only people who're scared hold their mummy or daddy's hands!"

Sensing an argument brewing, Hermione hurried forward and pulled Aurora away, "That's quite enough, young lady," she scolded.

Aurora clearly disagreed, and in a singsong voice chanted, "Annabelle's a coward, Annabelle's a cow-waaard!"

Not waiting to see what would happen next, Hermione frog marched a smug Aurora out of the room, while shooting an apologetic look at the other child's mother, who glared in response.

Once out in the corridor, Hermione turned to her grinning offspring and demanded, "Why on Earth did you do that? It was a naughty thing to do!"

"I don't like Annabelle," Aurora retorted with a pout, "last week, she said… she said that you were a muggle! She even called you 'mud' but Uncle Max shouted at her for it. You're not a muggle. You're not!"

Hermione sighed. She wished that Aurora didn't have to face such prejudice at such a tender age. "I know I'm not a muggle, and you know that I'm not a muggle – isn't that enough? Whatever else Annabelle may have said, that's still no reason to make fun of her!" She was thankful to whomever this Uncle Max was who had intervened; it was obvious what Annabelle would have said if given the chance, and Hermione didn't want Aurora exposed to the language of hatred when she was still so young,

"Yes it is!" Aurora insisted, "It's a good weason. Serves her wight! She's a coward and I don't want her to call you a muggle anymore!"

Hermione could feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind her eyes and said no more. In this mood, Aurora was impossible to reason with, and right now, she had other things on her mind. She decided that she would call it a day and go home. She had a lot of thinking to do and she wasn't going to achieve that by listening to her daughter prattling about her gripes with another child.

Taking her daughter firmly by the hand, she led her out of Flourish and Blotts, through Diagon Alley and into the Leaky Cauldron. Aurora didn't protest as she was led through the crowded pub onto Charing Cross road. She was starting to feel tired – the excitement of the day catching up with her. She yawned as Hermione flagged down a black cab and they climbed in. As Hermione gave the driver their address, Aurora snuggled herself against her mother and in a small voice said, "I'm sowwy mummy. I don't want you to be angwy. I won't be howwible to Annabelle again. Weally, I won't."

Hermione felt her throat constrict at this late and unexpected apology, and blinking back tears, pulled her errant daughter onto her lap. She was now more determined than ever that Draco Malfoy did not get the better of her where this child was concerned and vowed that she would do whatever it took to ensure he did not come between them.

XoXoXoXo

"Can we wead a stowy now?" Aurora questioned, as Hermione scooped her out of the bath and dumped her on the bathmat before towelling her dry.

"You're tired darling, and it's better that you go straight to bed," she replied as she helped Aurora into her Mickey Mouse pyjamas.

"But I want a stowy! Please, mummy, just a little one, then I'll go to sleep okay?" Aurora bargained.

Hermione wondered whether to give in to her daughter's request. Draco hadn't said when he would arrive – what if Aurora was still awake when he did so? She didn't want her daughter to see him, preferring that any unpleasantness be kept from the little girl.

"Oh, c'mon, Mummy," Aurora wheedled putting her arms round her mother's neck and kissing her cheek, "Please? Just a little stowy and then I will go to sleep, please?"

"Fine," Hermione capitulated, picking her up and carrying her through to her room. As she tucked Aurora into bed, she asked, "Well, what would you like to hear?"

In response, Aurora pointed to the book of 'Hans Christian Andersen Fairy Tales' Harry and Ginny had given her last Christmas that was sitting on her bedside table.

Hermione's fingers had just closed round the book when the doorbell chimed. She froze, the book clutched in her hand.

She knew instinctively who it was at the front door.

"Shall I see who it is?" Aurora asked, scrambling out of bed.

"No!" Hermione snapped, dropping the book of fairy tales. Quickly, she grabbed Aurora and pushed her back into bed. "Stay here. I'll see who it is. If I find that you've moved even a tiny inch, there'll be no story tonight, understand?" She knew that she was unjustly taking her nervousness out on the child, but she couldn't help it.

Aurora nodded, not understanding why her mother had snapped at her like that. She lay down, pulling the duvet up to her chin.

As Hermione made her way out of the room, she closed the door after her, simultaneously fingering the wand that was residing in her pocket. For a moment she was tempted to put a sleeping spell on her daughter, but was aware that her hand was not quite steady and eventually decided not to risk it. Oh well, maybe she could fob Malfoy off with an excuse.

She was not surprised to see him standing outside the front door when she cast a revealing charm on it. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open and faced him.

"Good evening," he greeted, stepping forward, "I hope I'm not too late."

"Too late?" Hermione asked, bewildered, "Too late for what?"

Reluctantly, she stepped aside, allowing him to enter the flat.

"Too late to read Aurora a story before bed," he answered smiling at her. "I remember how I used to insist upon a story at bedtime, I've no doubt my daughter's the same."

"Look," Hermione hissed, hands on her hips, "I've told you before that Aurora isn't your daughter! Why can't you understand that and just get out and leave us be?"

He simply smiled indulgently at her in return, which made Hermione more nervous than she cared to admit. "Now, now, temper, temper, my dear!" he smirked. "Would I be standing here, stating these facts, if I hadn't done my research? I'll have you know, Hermione, I have here," he patted his pocket, "all the evidence required to prove that Aurora is indeed my child, but before you and I go into all that, I would like to read my daughter a bedtime story. I would've been here in time for her bath, but one of the documents I needed proved to be rather more difficult to get hold of than I had anticipated. Where is Aurora?"

At that precise moment, Aurora's voice floated to them, "Mummy, has the person gone yet? Can we wead my stowy now? I haven't moved even an inch!"

Hermione moved to bar Draco's way, but he was too quick for her. In three strides, he had reached the door of Aurora's room and flung it open. She watched helplessly as Draco strode in with a proud grin on his face, stopping before an excited Aurora who had her arms outstretched. "Uncle Max! What're you doing here? Have you come to wead me a stowy?"

This was Uncle _Max?_ Hermione was confused. How was it that the two of them seemed to be on such friendly terms?

"I have indeed, princess," Draco replied, settling himself on the side of Aurora's bed and accepting her hug with a broad smile. With ease, he twisted the little girl to sit comfortably on his lap.

"I don't think you shou—" Hermione started, but was cut off by Draco saying,

"Look, I've brought you something."

Hermione watched in growing horror and panic, as from another pocket Draco withdrew a small bag. One casual wand flick later, the bag had multiplied ten-fold and she could see that it was stuffed full of toys.

Aurora let out a squeal of joy, but to Hermione's slight relief, she hesitated, glancing towards her mother for consent. "Are they all for me?" the little girl asked Draco, although her pleading grey eyes were fixed on Hermione's stony expression.

"Of course they are, princess, every single one!" Draco beamed, "Come on now, don't you want to see what's in the bag?"

"Mummy, may I?" Aurora implored.

Draco looked up at Hermione with a frown of irritation. "Oh I'm sure Mummy won't mind, will you Mummy?"

Hermione stopped herself from pulling out her wand and hexing him. Now both Draco and Aurora were looking at her; the latter gazing at her pleadingly. How could she say no? She felt something deep within her twist in pain, and silently cursed the man sitting, cradling her daughter. How dare he use her daughter against her?

"Um… Yes, of course you may, Aurora," she told the child, pointedly ignoring Draco, "but after that, it's bedtime for you, little one!"

"Thanks Mummy!" Aurora beamed back, and grabbing the heavy bag, she proceeded to tip the contents onto her bed.

Hermione had to stifle a gasp at the bag's contents: Five teddy bears of varying sizes and colours; three huge jigsaw puzzles, which when fitted, the pictures would move, a toy broomstick, a play cauldron with edible 'ingredients' and four other magical toys she didn't recognise. There were also three large books of wizarding fairytales that she knew instantly were very expensive first editions.

"Wow," Aurora breathed, "Wow!"

"Do you like them, princess?" Draco asked, smiling indulgently at her.

"Oh yes!" she gushed, giving 'Uncle Max' a quick kiss, and once again asked, "But are they weally all for me? The bwoomstick! The cauldwon! There're so many things here!"

Draco tilted his head down nearer to Aurora's and laughed softly, "Of course they're all for you. For you and no one else, my angel!"

"But this is like Chwistmas or my birthday!" the child grinned up at him, "When I get lots of pwesents all at once!"

Draco said nothing but pulled her small form to him, and hugged her tightly. "They're the presents for all your Christmases and birthdays that I've missed." He looked directly into Hermione's eyes, even as he spoke into Aurora's hair, pressing his face into her chestnut curls.

"It's time for bed, sweetie," Hermione interjected, pulling out her wand and banishing the toys back into the bag. "Come on now, there's my good girl." Pulling Aurora from Draco's arms, she lay her down, pulling the duvet over her.

"Can Uncle wead me a stowy, Mummy?" Aurora asked, looking at Draco expectantly.

Draco's eyes flicked sideways to see Hermione's reaction. For a moment, his mouth tightened to see her dismay, but she gave him a curt nod, and he smiled down at the comfortably tucked in girl. "What would you like me to read, angel?" he asked.

"Could you wead my Hans Chwistian Andersen Faiwy Tales?"

"Certainly," Draco gave her a gentle smile, picking up the thick storybook and settling himself on the bed beside her. "Which one would you like to hear?

"The Empewows New Clothes, please."

Draco grinned down at her, "I like that one too." Flicking through the book, he found the story and began reading. His rich baritone filled the room, and in spite of herself, Hermione was captivated. He was an excellent reader.

Seating herself on the bottom end of Aurora's bed, Hermione allowed Draco's voice to wash over her while her mind wandered. What _had_ he meant by "evidence"? If he had looked in either Hanwell's or St Mungo's records, he would have found nothing relating to Aurora. Hermione had made sure of that. She had taken the utmost care in ensuring that the only records kept about Aurora's birth were at Andromeda's nursery; even then those records said nothing about the child's father.

"'How splendid his Majesty looks in his new clothes! And how well they fit!' everyone cried out. 'What a design! What colours! These are indeed royal robes!'"

Glancing at Aurora, Hermione saw that she had fallen asleep with a smile on her lips. Draco too, seemed to have realised this for he shut the book, leaned over and kissed her rosy cheek. Looking down at the sleeping child, he tenderly brushed an errant curl away from her face.

"How angelic she looks," he murmured, his eyes hungrily drinking in the sight before him, as he absentmindedly replaced the book on the bedside table.

Hermione moved quietly to the head of the bed. Standing next to Draco, she gazed down at the sweet face of her daughter. Then she too, leaned over and kissed her, tucking the duvet securely in around her small form.

For a while, the couple stood in silence side by side, looking down at Aurora; each thinking how precious the child was to them.

"After you," Draco murmured, breaking the silence as he stood aside to allow Hermione to go through the door first.

She led the way into the sitting room and once there, turned to face him. It cost her to do so, but she asked, "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"Coffee would be nice," he replied, as he looked around the room with interest.

Hermione walked into the kitchen, Draco following closely behind her. He stood surveying the small immaculately kept kitchen as she busied herself making coffee.

"You have a nice flat," he commented, once more breaking the tense silence, "how long have you had it?"

"A few years," she answered tartly, as she poured out the steaming coffee into a coffeepot.

He waited until she had set the tray, then taking it from her, he led the way back into the sitting room. They seated themselves on either side of the large round glass-topped coffee table and Hermione poured. Pushing his cup towards him, she sat back. "Look Malfoy—" she began, but he cut her off.

"I thought we stuck to first names at Hanwell's?" he asked, sitting back and taking an appreciative sip of his aromatic brew. "After all, that _is_ what sets Hanwell's apart from the other hospitals, is it not?"

"Well yes, but—"

"Then it's 'Draco' and not 'Malfoy' – agreed?"

"At work, maybe, but this is outside working hours—"

Again, he interrupted her. "Oh I'd say that you and I have enough in common to warrant first names, wouldn't you?" he smirked silkily. "Making a baby together, for example."

Putting her own cup down, Hermione ground out, "For the last time, _Malfoy_," she emphasised, "Aurora's not yours!"

Draco surveyed her with that irritating smirk playing about his mouth, before drawing out what looked like a tiny card from a pocket. A flick of his wand later, she saw that it was a slim A4-sized leather-bound file. Sliding it across the coffee table, he said, "We'll have our discussion after you've had a look at that."

With trembling fingers, Hermione opened the file and froze. The first page was Aurora's birth certificate, on which was written the date, 13 October 2000.

"Exactly nine months to the day that you and I made love," Draco drawled casually, while watching her keenly.

Hermione bristled at Draco's comment but brushed it aside, she had more important things on her mind. A birth certificate hardly constituted 'evidence', she smiled inwardly. Lots of children were born prematurely. Besides, Aurora's birth certificate was a document easily obtained from Andromeda's nursery, and one which had no indication of her paternity.

Flipping to the next page, however, she bit her lower lip in consternation. This one was not so easily dismissed. There before her, was the report of her last ultrasound scan a week before Aurora's birth. On the report were details of the progression of her pregnancy at 39 weeks on 6 October 2000, and there, stated in a clear script: 'Name: Hermione Jane Granger; Marital Status: Single'. The next few pages contained a report of the birth itself and at the bottom of the report, was a note: 'Father: unknown. Patient refuses to name father.'

There was a final section to the folder. The cover page of this section was stamped with the Wand and Bone emblem of St Mungo's Hospital. Face pallid with fear, she noted the date for this document – today's date.

There, before her in medical jargon that was so familiar to her, lay the copy of a paternity report requested by Draco Andreus Malfoy. The attached medical report stated that the blood samples submitted by both Draco Andreus Malfoy and Aurora Elisabeth Granger, shared fifty percent of their genes, thereby defining their relationship as father and daughter.

Ice cold, irrefutable proof of Draco's paternity.

How was she ever going to deny this truth? If he should submit this before the Wizengamot—

Shoulders sagging, Hermione shut the file, and laid it on the coffee table before her. "How did you get a blood sample from Aurora?" she asked flatly.

He spoke quietly, recognising her defeated tone, "When I left you in the corridor in Flourish and Blotts, I doubled round and entered the playroom using the back entrance. I merely explained to Aurora that I needed some blood from her for a test that St Mungo's was carrying out. She bravely obliged. I took the blood from her finger and healed the cut. It was simple really."

How dare he? How dare the conniving little snake do this to her? To Aurora? Taking blood from a child – it was worse than stealing a treasured possession! The horrors of possible Dark Magic that involved the use of children's blood flooded through Hermione's mind, as rage began to take hold of her. Picking up the file, she threw it hard at him.

Draco, who had been expecting such an outburst, put out a hand and caught the file, simply reducing it and tucking it safely away in his pocket.

"How dare you! How could you do such a thing? I'll never forgive you should anything happen to Aurora! I hate you!" she cried, jumping to her feet and stalking towards the man still sitting calmly opposite her, "Who the hell do you think you are to barge into our lives like this? I won't allow it!"

At this, Draco rose to his feet, his calm gone, replaced with a look that would have done credit to a rampaging Hippogriff. "You won't allow it?" he retorted through gritted teeth, "Let me remind you that thanks to you, I only found out about my daughter's existence today! Before you get all worked up and onto your moral high horse, ask yourself how hiding Aurora from me will look in front of the Wizengamot!"

Hermione paled, her anger draining away, "You wouldn't," she whispered pleadingly, "you wouldn't try to take her away from me."

"Explain to me why I shouldn't, Hermione. Merlin knows I've every right to do so! Imagine yourself finding out one day purely by accident that you've fathered a child of whom you'd known nothing; a child whose most important milestones you've missed: her first smile, her first steps, her first word, her first day at school! Wouldn't you feel cheated and bitter?"

There was a pause in which she digested his angry words. Then she stammered, "But… but if I'd told you, you would've…you would…"

"What do you think I would've had done?" he narrowed his eyes in anger and hurt. "Had her _killed_ because she wasn't a pureblood?" Bitterness laced his words as he continued, "Done away with her because she was conceived out of wedlock? Do you still _not_ understand?" Exasperated, he raised his voice, "For someone who's suppose to be very open minded, you hold a great deal of prejudice!"

The fact was, Hermione did not understand. What happened had happened a long time ago and the steps she had taken to protect Aurora, had in her opinion, been necessary to ensure the child's safety. Staring down at the cream and gold carpet, she bit her bottom lip, pondering his words. Finally, she looked up and deciding to call his bluff, demanded, "Fine then, what would you have done when you found out I was pregnant with Aurora? Would you have married me?" she gave an unlady-like snort of derision, accompanied by a shake of her head.

"Yes," came the emphatic reply, "Yes, I would have!" Then in a quieter but just as vehement voice, he continued, "Unlike your preconceptions of me, I do take my moral responsibilities very seriously, and yes, it may surprise you to know, but I would've married you in an instant had I known. "

There was another silence and the clock on the wall ticked loudly in the tense atmosphere of the room. Hermione re-seated herself, and picking up her now cold coffee, drained her cup in one go.

"Well, that's all water under the bridge now, isn't it?" Hermione shrugged, still reeling from Draco's words. "The fact is that I'm not married, and Aurora and I are happy as we are. We lack for nothing and don't need you… and you'll do us a world of good by leaving us alone."

She knew she sounded callas and cruel but she was beyond the point of caring.

"Oh no," he let out a mirthless laugh, "I'm afraid it's not as simple as that, Hermione. Because of you, I've missed a large part of my daughter's life, and I'm not about to miss out on any more of it! No, leaving Aurora alone, is simply not an option."

He sat down again and fixed her with a steely glare. "As of this moment, I'm giving you two options – which is more than what you gave me by not telling me about Aurora. Ither we come to an informal arrangement regarding the amount of time I can spend with Aurora, or if you don't agree to this, I'll have my lawyers notify you of when we'll meet before the Wizengamot and take this to court. Of course, if you're foolish enough to force me to take such drastic action, you'd risk loosing custody of Aurora, and you'll never see her again." He held up a hand to forestall her protests and continued, "This will be your choice, Hermione – I'm not comfortable with taking this to court because I'm a firm believer that children should have the love and time of _both_ parents." Gently, he added, "I know that both you and Aurora have a very close bond and don't want my child to have to go through the trauma of separation with her mother, but Hermione, if you leave me with no choice, you know as well as I do that I have the greater chance of winning a court battle. Make no mistake, I'll take this to court if you force me, any price is worth seeing my daughter grow up and playing a part in her life."

By now Hermione was feeling sick with fear, her head bent low. What had she done to deserve this? All those years she had spent trying to ensure Aurora's safety – all for nothing! She felt a tear trickle down her cheek and wiped it away with the back of her hand. She had even gone to the trouble of giving birth in Benendon Hospital, a muggle private hospital in Kent, attended by one medi-witch, but Draco had managed to get hold of even that record as well. She felt another tear slide silently down her cheek and this time she did not bother to wipe it away. It was soon followed by another, and then another.

A slight rustling to her right made Hermione look up. Before she could move, Draco had seated himself on the arm of her chair and pulled her into his arms, her face buried against his chest.

"Don't cry," he comforted, holding her tightly, "please, Hermione, don't cry. I didn't mean to upset you… it's just… it's just that I'm as desperate as you are to see Aurora grow up, that's all."

"Imagine what it was like for me," she sniffed unable to stop herself, her voice muffled against his chest, "having a baby on my own, and then bringing her up knowing that if I died in the war against Voldemort, there' be no one to take care of her. I feared for her safety – I was so sure that…" she sobbed, unable to continue. "Now after everything I went through to bring her up and ensure she didn't want for anything, you… you just traipse in here and threaten to take her away from me!"

His arms tightened around her and he shook his head. "No, no, no, Hermione," he whispered into her hair, which was so much like his little girl's, "Never. I'm not going to take her away from you, I promise! All I want… all I ask for, Hermione, is to be a part of your lives – is that really too much to ask?"

"Is that the truth? You really won't take her away?" she sniffed, looking up at him through her tears, "I want you to promise in writing that you'll never take her from me."

"I'll do as you ask," he replied hoarsely, his thumb wiping away her tears, "if you promise to let me at least spend some time with my little girl too. That's all I ask, Hermione."

She bit her lip again and nodded, knowing that this was the best deal she could hope to strike under the circumstances.

"Thank you," he murmured on a sigh, and before she could pull away, he bent and kissed her gently on the mouth. "You won't regret this Hermione," he said solemnly, "I promise." Straightening up, he smiled down at her, "I'd better go, it's been a long night, and you need your rest. I know you've got to get into Hanwell's early tomorrow morning."

Hermione got up as well, and tucked her hair behind her ears, wiping the remains of her tears with her hands.

"Will it be all right to come round tomorrow at the same time?" he smiled. "Maybe I could babysit Aurora when you're on duty – no more running around looking for someone to take care of her when you're needed at Hanwell's in emergencies."

"Tomorrow's fine," she muttered, getting up and walking him over to the door. "As for babysitting, Molly Weasley and my parents have a scheduled worked out with me, and we've been managing fine." She noted the look of disappointment on Draco's face, and added, "But if you could help out once in a while, I'd be grateful."

It had cost her a great deal to say these words, but she felt that she had no other choice and she didn't want to break this tentative truce she had with him.

Draco smiled broadly at Hermione's acquiescence. "Right. Babysitting's no problem at all. It'll be my pleasure. Also, while we're on the subject, I want to give you some financial help," he hesitated and then carried on, "because you look as if you skimp on meals to make ends meet."

Hermione felt a blush suffuse her cheeks at his words, but shook her head. "No, you don't need to do that. You know as well as I do that Healers are paid quite well. Mum and dad helped me buy this flat, but I've since paid them back. The flat was my biggest expense, and now that's dealt with, Aurora and I are comfortable financially." It would never do for him to know of the money she still owed Gringott's due to a loan she had needed to take out the year before, or the fact that she had to watch every knut for as generous as her salary was, it was gobbled up by Aurora's nursery fees, the money she paid Molly Weasley for babysitting, the gradual paying back of her loan, plus utility bills and other daily expenses. Only as a last resort would she take this man's money and she vowed never to reach that level of desperation. Adopting a right smile she continued, "I know I'm too thin, but that's more to do with work stress, running around and not having enough time for meals, rather than a problem with making ends meet."

"Nevertheless," he persisted earnestly, "I want to support you both. I'll arrange it all tomorrow with Gringott's. Now I really had better go," he smiled, looking very reluctant, "like you, I have an early meeting in the morning."

He led the way out of the room, and after a moment's hesitation opened Aurora's door. Silently, he crept to the bed and bending down, kissed the sleeping child, with a soft, "Goodnight, my little darling."

"Is she a light sleeper?" he whispered to the child's mother.

"Apparently not tonight," Hermione whispered back with a slight smile, as they walked down the hall to the front door, "on some nights, even the slightest sound'll wake her, but she's exhausted after a day like today – what with Hippogriffs and everything."

He acknowledged this information with a smile. Opening the front door, he turned to her, "Thanks for letting me see her, Hermione," he said, looking intently into her eyes, "Good night."

Stepping over the threshold, Draco Disapparated, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts about her perplexing evening.

XoXoXoXo

There was a silence when Hermione finished telling her tale. Finally, Harry spoke up from his place by the window, "I had a feeling something like this would happen – Andromeda Tonks is the sister of Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. They were Sirius's cousins."

"That git! Why did you let him anywhere near Aurora, Hermione? You know what he's like – he'd probably kidnap her the moment your back is turned!" Ron exclaimed hotly.

"I had no choice in the matter Ron," Hermione snapped back, "it was either that or we go to court! You know as well as I do how poor my chances would be against him."

"Ignore him, Hermione," Ginny said, shooting her brother a death glare, "I think you did the right thing in the circumstances. He was right, you know – you don't have half a hope against him in court. It's far better to have some control of the situation than none at all. Did he really agree to support you two? You should agree to it! Make sure you get that in writing."

"Ginevra!" Harry exclaimed, horrified, "you didn't mean that – imagine taking that git's money."

Ginny stood her ground and replied calmly, "Well, if it were up to me, and if it were a choice between compromise and court, I know what I'd do. I'd bleed him for all I could get!" she nodded empathetically. "Besides, this way, Hermione'll have more money to spend on herself for a change. It's not like he can't afford it – and we know how much Hermione has scrimped through the years to provide for Aurora."

"You, Ginevra Molly Potter, are a disgrace to decency," Ron glowered at his sister.

"No, I'm not," Ginny huffed. "I say make the best of the situation, and in this case, I say that Hermione should take full advantage of it. Why shouldn't she? Malfoy's got his way by making Hermione agree to letting him see Aurora, so why shouldn't Hermione get something out of it as well?" Turning to Hermione, she added, "Don't listen to these two, Hermione – they don't know their faces from their backsides. Get all you can from Malfoy – I know I would!"

"No Ginny," Hermione sighed, "I can't. As tempting as it sounds, the moment I accept money from him, he'll use that to gain a foothold in Aurora's life and I can't have that."

"I suppose," Ginny conceded, "but still, the money would have been so useful to you. For a start, you could've pay Grinngott's off, and then treated yourself to some new clothes."

"Ginny, you know full well we'll give Hermione all the financial support she wants," Ron broke in harshly, "she's only to say and the money's hers." Turning to Hermione, he added, "Good on you Hermione, refuse to take the slimebag's money."

Colour flooded Ginny's cheeks and she snapped back, "Don't you think that I know that Ron? I'd give my last knut to help Hermione, as you damn well know! The problem is that Hermione being the stubborn person she is insists on paying us back thereby ending up back at square one. If she accepted Malfoy's money, she wouldn't have to pay him anything in return."

"Other than time with Aurora," Harry put in quietly.

"Other than that," Ginny agreed flatly, the anger draining out of her. "Merlin, the man's a sneak."

"Look you three, I'm not about to accept anything from him so don't worry," Hermione reassured, "and to put your minds at ease, If I need help, I'll let you know, ok?"

"You just make sure you do that!" Ginny told her sternly, accompanied by vigorous nods from Harry and Ron.

Shaking her head and stifling a laugh at the looks on all three faces, Hermione got up. "Well, it's been nice chatting to the three of you, but Mum and Aurora will probably have returned from the shops by now and I had better get going. Don't worry, I think I can handle Malfoy, he isn't being as half as difficult as I had expected, so I'm counting my blessings." Waving at the other three, she Disapparated to appear a moment later outside her parents' front gate.

Leaning on the gate, she pondered on her parting words to the others. It was true that Draco had not been as half as difficult as she had imagined. On the contrary, he seemed keen to ensure that she was happy despite the situation. This, she admitted, did not fit in with the Draco Malfoy she had once known – the malicious bully whose main purpose in life was to make other people miserable. He had definitely changed. Oh, he was still a Slytherin through and through, but gone was the overt nastiness she, Harry and Ron had known throughout their time at Hogwarts.

She also had to admit that he cared deeply for Aurora. The huge bag of toys he had bought last night, and what he said was a material testament to that, but more so was the look in his eyes when he read Aurora her bedtime story. The man was indeed an enigma and one she wanted to solve, if not for her own sake, then for Aurora's. True, she would never accept financial help from him, but all in all, thigs could have turned out much worse than they had done so.

Hermione had spent so much time dreading him finding out about Aurora, but when he had, it had not been half as bad as she had envisaged. Oh he had been furious – she had expected that, but so far, he was reasonable and Hermione intended to keep it that way. She deliberately did not allow her mind to think about the comfort she received in his arms last night – and certainly not on his chaste kiss – no, she'd certainly not dwell on _that_. There were far too many complications already in her life, and she did not see the need to add an extra one.

Pushing open the gate, she walked up the path to her parents' house, just as the sun peeped out from behind some clouds. Maybe the future wasn't as bleak as she had first thought. Maybe given time, she and Draco Malfoy would learn to tolerate each other for Aurora's sake, if for nothing else.


	8. Chapter 7

Authors Note: I apologise profusely for the length of time it took me to get this out, but a combination of mild writers block coupled with very little free time due to other commitments resulted in the extensive delay. Thanks for bearing with me however and also to my beta who has made this readable. I hope this chapter has been worth the wait. I'm posting it in Word format as is scrambling the formatting of HTML files, in the hope it won't be changed.

Chapter 7

"So you see, there's _absolutely_ no way James and I can do it alone," Isabel Winterton stated, staring hard at Hermione from across her leather-topped desk. "There it is, I'm afraid—"she gave an eloquent shrug, "—sad, but duty calls." She then leaned back in her swivel chair, regarding the younger woman imperiously.

Hermione took a deep breath and mentally counted to five before looking up at the older woman, exasperation evident on her face. "I've told you, I can't make it. If you had given me some prior notice, I could have organised a babysitter to look after my daughter, but as it is, I really can't help you." There was regret in her voice as she spoke.

"Can't?" Isabel echoed her lip curling with distaste. "May I remind you, my dear Hermione, that you're a senior healer, and as such, your work commitments have to come before all else – even your family obligations. You cannot expect to attain such a well respected position without sacrificing something along the way."

"I can appreciate what you're saying," Hermione countered in a falsely calm voice, "but I don't have a choice in the matter. There's no one to look after my young daughter. Unless you propose that I leave her alone to fend for herself this evening, I can't help you with the experiment." She tried hard to keep the note of annoyance out of her voice, but her patience was starting to wear thin.

There was a pause as Isabel glared at Hermione. Then as though coming to a decision, she asked, "What if I make arrangements for someone to look after the child for the evening? Will you then consent to helping me?"

"I'm not—"

A loud knock interrupted Hermione's words and the attention of both women was drawn to the door.

"Enter!" Isabel called, and the door was pushed open to reveal a smiling James Sanderson.

"It's all ready," he beamed, stepping into the room and closing the door. "All that's needed now is to do the tests." He rubbed his hands together in glee, grinning at the two women looking back at him.

"There's a slight problem," Isabel informed him acidly, "Hermione can't be there due to her family commitments!" She placed a heavy note of scorn on the last two words, making Hermione wince.

"Not be there?" James repeated blankly. "Hermione you _have_ to be there to help us – your hand's the steadiest of the lot of us, and we all know that a steady hand will be needed when placing a drop of the potion between the cervical and thoracic parts of the spinal chord."

"If we can manage to do it," Isabel said dreamily, "Merlin, what a breakthrough that will be! Imagine how many people will benefit from the treatment!"

"Yes," Hermione agreed miserably, her hands clasped in her lap, "I'd love to be there, but—"

"Yes, yes, we know," Isabel snapped. "There's no one to look after your child!" The dreamy quality had gone from her voice and she once more glared at Hermione.

"I'm sorry about that," Hermione apologised. "I would have loved to…" she trailed off as an idea slid into her mind.

"Thought of someone to take over the babysitting?" James asked, watching her face eagerly.

"Well, maybe…." She prevaricated while she waged an internal battle with her mind.

"Excellent!" Isabel cut in enthusiastically. "Why don't you go and make the necessary arrangements with whoever it is, and in the mean time, James and I will go over the methodology of the experiment. We must ensure that there're no flaws that may bias our results."

"But he may not…" Hermione tried to explain, but Isabel cut in once more.

"If you impress the importance of this experiment on him, he'll be sure to understand. Now go on, there's no time to waste." A now brisk Isabel smiled and hustled Hermione from the office out into the quiet corridor beyond. Her earlier mood of reproach had disappeared and she was all eagerness once more. Clearly this experiment meant a lot to her.

As the door of Isabel's office snapped shut behind her, Hermione turned and made her slow way down the corridor thinking hard.

She desperately wanted to be part of the group conducting the experiment. She had been thrilled when Isabel had approached her to join James and herself in the testing laboratory later on. Hermione knew they had been working on the potion to re-grow damaged parts of the spinal chord for some time now. _But to be there when they carried out the tests!_ She had caught her breath with excitement. That was until she had remembered that there would be no one to look after Aurora that evening. Her parents were currently in Geneva at a conference given by the Swiss Dental Association. Molly Weasley was unwell with the flu. She had then turned her mind to her friends, but this too had proved disappointing. Ron and Harry were both away on Auror business, and Ginny with the aid of Mr Weasley, was nursing her mother. Hermione bit her lip, facing the fact that if she really wanted to be part of the medical team witnessing the miracle that may be taking place later on, she would have to swallow her pride and ask Draco Malfoy for help – she had no other choice!

Reaching the busy reception area of the hospital, she enquired of the young smiling receptionist whether Mr Malfoy was in the building. On being informed by the giggling and blushing girl that he was, she turned on leaden feet, and with a heavy heart, made her way to his spacious office. Upon reaching his office, she knocked the door in the hope that he wouldn't be there. She really didn't want to talk to him right now and as for asking him for a favour… she shuddered at the thought.

A frowning Draco Malfoy opened the door, and on seeing his caller, he smiled broadly.

"Ah Hermione, come in," he invited, standing aside and gesturing for her to enter the large room.

With a sinking heart, she stepped into the room and hoped that she wasn't making a mistake in what she was about to do.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said awkwardly, glancing at the desk and the scattered rolls of parchments littering its surface.

"Not at all," he smiled and ushered her into a chair. "How are you? I'd planned on coming by your office once I'd finished this," he waved at the littered desk, "but you beat me to it."

"I'm fine," she answered absently, watching as he seated himself opposite her. Then stiffening her resolve, she continued, "Actually, I need a favour and was wondering if you could help."

"Well, I guess that depends on the favour now, doesn't it?" he drawled, leaning back and regarding her thoughtfully, a smile playing about his mouth.

"I was wondering… if its fine with you, I mean… if you could babysit Aurora this evening. That is, if it's convenient… but it won't be for long – until about ten pm or so," she gabbled, nervous about making the request, "After all, you _were_ suppose to come round anyway, and I thought that perhaps—"

His smile grew broader, and leaning forward, he interrupted, "Of course it'll be fine to babysit my little princess for the evening, how could you think otherwise?"

"Look," she snapped, a sudden irritation rising within her, "I'm only asking you because there's no one else available tonight. Believe me, if I had a choice in the matter I wouldn't be here at all." She clenched her hands in her lap once more wondering if this was a good idea. Was being present at this evening's experiment really worth allowing Draco Malfoy to spend time all alone with Aurora?

The smile vanished from his face to be replaced by a look she didn't want to put a name to. "No, that's quite clear from your past actions," he clipped, eyes narrowing, making her stomach sink, "but we won't go into that now. What time do you need me to be there?"

"Around 7:30. I'll make sure that Aurora's in bed so you won't have to do anything," she replied quickly, not looking at him.

"Your generosity astounds me," he drawled sarcastically. "Purely out of interest, what's so important that you have to change your plans for this evening?" His brows furrowed as he studied her intently.

"It's an experiment that Isabel and James intend carrying out," she explained, relieved that she was on safe ground once more, "they've been working on a potion that will regenerate the damaged parts of the spinal chord in paralysed people."

Draco nodded briefly, "Right, sounds interesting. I hope the experiment's a success."

"It certainly will be a breakthrough for Hanwell's if it succeeds," she reflected. Then, as an awkward silence descended on them, Hermione took the opportunity to leave Draco's office before more could be said.

How she had hated having to ask him to spend time alone with Aurora! But frankly, there was no other option open to her – not unless she was willing to miss out on this once in a lifetime opportunity. She promised herself as she hurried back to her own office that Aurora would be asleep by the time Draco arrived in the evening. She would make sure that Draco had minimal contact with her precious daughter.

XoXoXoXo

A silence pervaded the room as the three Healers watched the prone figure of the young boy lying on the narrow operating table.

"Two minutes," James breathed into the tense silence, "all being well, it should take two minutes to work."

Hermione and Isabel nodded, each with one eye on the wall clock that ticked away the seconds. The silence was deafening, as the three healers stood in the brightly lit operating theatre, nervousness evident in every line of their postures.

The Medi-witch standing at the head of the table monitoring the patient's breathing and heart rate was also tense, as she too, stared at the clock, hardly daring to breathe.

"Three, two, one!" Isabel counted tensely.

There was another silence as they all stared down at the figure lying still on the table between them. He was motionless, apart from the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

"Time to wake him up," Isabel said in a hushed voice.

Leaning forward, James pointed the tip of his crystal wand at the boy and muttered, "Enervate."

A groan escaped the young boy, and opening his eyes, he stared up at the three adults surrounding him.

"Well, has it worked then?" he asked groggily.

"Try moving your left hand Tom," Isabel told him conversationally, while watching the boy's left hand avidly.

"Won't do no good," Tom objected stubbornly, "You know I can't move me useless fingers. Don't see no point in tryin'."

Hermione bit her lip with compassion at the forlorn tone in his voice. Clearly he for one did not believe that the experiment had worked.

"Come now," Isabel encouraged patiently, "just try! That's all we ask."

There was a pause in which all parties stared down at Tom's thin and wasted left hand lying beside him on the table, the muscles having lost a lot of their strength due to lack of usage. Then slowly, the fingers twitched slightly. The movement was almost imperceptible but it was nevertheless there.

"Blimey!" A shocked Tom gasped, "Did'ja see that? I moved it! I moved it!"

"Yes!" James cried, dispelling the tension in the quiet operating theatre, "I do believe it's worked! Tom, try and move the other hand this time."

Everyone stared at Tom's right hand, which after a moment of intense concentration, twitched, making Hermione who was holding her breath gasp.

"Oh my god," she grinned, "We've done it! We've done the impossible and the nerves have been regenerated."

"Oh my!" The young Medi-witch exclaimed, tears in her eyes.

"Well yeah," Tom said hesitantly, "but it's takin' me a while to move me hands – I mean that ain't suppose to 'appen is it? I thought it were suppose to 'appen instantly like."

"Well," Hermione reassured, smiling down at him, "your brain isn't used to sending messages to your arms and legs, so it's taking a bit longer. After all, it's been two years now since your accident."

"So it'll get easier?" he enquired, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Yes, Tom, it will get easier!" Isabel confirmed, and Hermione saw that there were tears in the older woman's eyes.

The next ten minutes were spent coaxing Tom to try and move his arms and legs, which he did with many grunts and loud exhalations of breath. Finally, when he was tired out, James called it a day and Tom was borne away by the grinning Medi-witch back to his ward.

"I don't believe we did it!" Hermione beamed, as they put the operating theatre to rights once more.

"Well you'd better believe it, because it's true!" Isabel smiled back, her eyes shining in the dim light of the theatre.

"Months and months of preparation and experimentation on other creatures has finally paid off!" James crowed as he gathered up the potion sample they had used. Of course Tom will need extensive physiotherapy to rebuild his muscles, but at least his nerves are working again."

In less than half an hour the operating theatre was cleaned, after which James and Isabel retired to their offices to write up the evening's experiment. Hermione smiled in satisfaction as she prepared to depart. Walking down the quiet corridors, she marvelled again at what they had managed to achieve. She was still smiling as she reached the grounds and Disapparated to appear a split second later in the quiet hallway outside her flat.

Inserting her key in the lock, she unlocked the door and let herself into the quiet flat. A single light was turned on in the hallway and a strip of light was visible beneath the door to the sitting room. She felt some of her euphoria fade away as she crossed to Aurora's room and pushed open the door.

Aurora's night-light was throwing a dim shadow over the darkened room and Hermione could make out the shape of her daughter lying curled on her side, her cheek pressed against the head of a teddy bear. Her duvet was tucked securely round her small form. Not wanting to disturb the sleeping child, she shut the door quietly and crossing the hall, pushed open the door of the sitting room to see Draco seated at the large coffee table with papers spread out before him.

He looked up as she entered the room and asked, "How did it go?"

"Very well," she smiled, "The experiment was a success. The patient will be facing months of physiotherapy, but he'll soon be able to walk again."

"That's indeed good news," Draco replied, caught up in Hermione's zeal.

"I hope Aurora didn't give you any trouble tonight."

"None whatsoever, she's a perfect angel. She woke up at around eight, but I read her a story and she was asleep again in less than ten minutes." He began to tidy up his papers as he spoke.

"Thanks for stepping in like this at the last moment," she said, crossing to the small kitchen and filling the coffeemaker with coffee granules and water, then plugging it in to boil.

"It was no trouble at all," he replied. With a flick of his wand, he reduced the rolls of parchment before him and put them into his pocket.

Hermione became conscious of the fact that Draco had moved to lean against the fridge watching her.

"Why do you cook using muggle appliances?" he asked suddenly. "Surely it's much easier to conjure up a cup of coffee than go to all this hassle in making it?" He indicated the quietly bubbling coffeemaker as he spoke.

She took her time pouring the steaming fragrant coffee into a pot before answering. "It may be easier making coffee with magic, but I've been brought up doing things the muggle way and the habit's stayed with me."

"What, even after all these years?" He queried taking the laden coffee tray from her, carrying it into the sitting room and putting it down onto the now clear coffee table.

She said nothing as she poured out coffee from the pot and handed him a cup. Finally, when she was settled with a coffee cup in hand, she looked at him. "I enjoy doing things the muggle way," she shrugged. "It gives me a sense of purpose. Conjuring up a cup of coffee… the effortless way a cup of coffee appears somehow lessens the experience… that's to say – this is really hard to explain, but I always feel a certain lack of appreciation for something easily obtained because there's so little effort needed in getting it. Besides, there's something about cooking that appeals to me more than simply making food appear with my wand."

She sat back, wondering why he was asking her these questions. Putting aside her natural distrust of him, she considered that his questions might be a result of curiosity and a genuine interest in her lifestyle. His next question, however, caused her to regret her generosity as her expression hardened in suspicion.

"So tell me, is Aurora always encouraged to find solutions in muggle methods too?" He drawled leaning back in his chair eyeing her over the rim of his cup.

"Naturally," she answered stiffly, her senses on red alert. "She's too young to cast her own magic, and there's simply no need for her to rely on magical means for every little thing. I mean, while it might be simple for me to spoil her with magical toys or even to conjure up her meals by magic, I'd rather she learn to do things herself and not rely on magic to accomplish the simplest of tasks."

"Of course you're right," he nodded in agreement, "Aurora's too young to cast her own magic." He pursed his lips and added carefully, "Nonetheless, Aurora _is_ descended from one of the most powerful wizarding families in Europe, and as such, should not only be taught the value of magic and wizarding ways, she ought to be comfortable with living with magic—"

"Well I fully disagree!" Hermione cut in, anger starting to take hold of her insides. Face flushing, she added, "Aurora's perfectly fine the way she is, thank you very much! She doesn't need people like _you_ to impose their antiquated values on her."

At her heated words, Draco sat back, surveying her through narrowed eyes. Coolly, he countered, "There's nothing wrong with knowing more about magic and how it can make one's life simpler. Whether you like it or not, Aurora is a Malfoy, and as such, she should be brought up to appreciate her magical heritage."

'_Magical heritage, eh? Is that what he calls his pureblood rhetoric nowadays?' Hermione thought bitterly. _ She felt her fingers tighten on the handle of her coffee cup and hastily set it down on the table before her.

Taking a deep breath knowing that she had to control her anger, she began in a steely voice, "I can _assure_ you that Aurora is being brought up with sufficient appreciation of who she is and _good_ moral values. It's indeed unfortunate that fifty percent of her genes come from you," she bit out sarcastically, "and if I recall correctly, I didn't have a choice in that little matter. What I do have a choice in, though, is the way _I _choose to bring up my daughter. How I choose to bring her up, I assure you, is something I take very seriously. I will not allow some bigoted spoiled brat to teach my daughter to grow up thinking that she is some aristocratic princess to whom everyone else on this planet must grovel as they are all beneath her notice!" The ice in her voice conveyed her anger plainly. All her earlier elation was completely gone, leaving her with the familiar feeling of anger and worry clutching at her insides.

Draco, by now simply holding on to a single thread of his composure, retaliated, "Well, my dear Hermione, while I'm glad that you've made your feelings about me perfectly clear, you're forgetting the little fact that Aurora is as much my daughter as yours. She has every right to—"

"Mummy?" The small voice made both adults swing round to face the door, which was pushed open by a sleepy Aurora. "Mummy, you're back!" The small girl exclaimed, coming into the room and padding across to her mother who immediately picked her up.

"Darling, what are you doing awake?" Hermione asked, looking into her daughter's sleepy face. Aurora's curls tumbled about her shoulders as she curled up in Hermione's lap. Her pyjamas felt cool against Hermione's skin and looking down, Hermione saw that they were made of silk. She felt her heart sink, knowing that she had dressed Aurora in her favourite Shiny Show cotton pyjamas before putting her to bed. Draco must have changed her clothes once she had gone off to Hanwell's! What was he up to? Trying to assert his paternity? Well, not if she had anything to say about it!

Trying not to let her shock at Aurora's change of sleepwear show, Hermione looked up at Draco, whose earlier discomposure had been hidden behind a calm façade, as he watched mother and daughter as they greeted each other.

"Mummy, where did you go?" Aurora asked, looking up at Hermione and blinking away the sleep from her eyes.

"I was working darling," Hermione answered, tightening her grip on the child. "Now what're you doing awake at this hour, young lady?" she added in a falsely bright voice.

"I woke up and when I heard you talking, I came to see you," came the prompt response. Aurora smiled up at her mother, her eyes shining.

"Well, it's high time you went back to bed," Hermione smiled in return, determined not to let any of her anger show in her expression.

"Oh mummy, please let me stay up for five minutes? I'll go to bed then, pwomise!" Aurora cajoled, winding her arms around Hermione's neck.

In an effort to distract her mother, she went on, "Me and uncle—"

"Uncle and I," Hermione corrected automatically, disentangling Aurora's arms from about her neck.

Aurora ignoring the interruption, carried on, "We were talking about Daddy, and I told him that my Daddy had died in the war."

Hermione felt every muscle within her tense, and mustering a smile asked, "Oh?"

"Uncle said that if I was lucky, I might get a new Daddy!" she gabbled, her eyes shining. "Oh mummy, can I have a new Daddy please, please? Uncle said that he would be my Daddy, but that you wouldn't like it and—"

"No!" Hermione almost yelled, startling Aurora, who stared up at her with a confused expression. "No, this has gone too far! First the pyjamas, and now this – you can't do this, you can't!"

She glared at Draco, who simply shrugged in response. "I can't?" he smiled infuriatingly, "Have you never heard of the adage, 'All is fair in love and war', Hermione?"

"Not when it concerns my daughter!" she snapped back, silently cursing the tears that had sprung to her eyes. "You're using an innocent child for your own twisted nefarious purpo—"

It was Draco's turn to glower, his eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, anger radiating from him. "If I were you, I wouldn't complete that sentence," he warned. "You've made it perfectly clear earlier today that if you could help it, you wouldn't let me have any contact with my own child. It's been over a week now since I found out about her existence. A week, I might add, in which I've played by your rules. And for what? The sleep inducing charm you put on Aurora before I got here is testament to the fact that you want me to have as little contact with my own flesh and blood as possible!" He took a controlled breath and carried on,"I was willing to do this on your terms, but not if you're going to thwart me at every turn. If things continue as they are, I'll be forced to use other measures to ensure a bond between me and mine."

Hermione was shocked at the look of determination on his face. By the sound of it, he was letting loose a week's worth of pent-up frustration.

Both adults seemed to have forgotten the presence of the wide-eyed child sitting silently, her gaze travelling from one to the other.

Hermione sat back, unconsciously tightening her arms around Aurora. Breathing deeply, she controlled her temper to avoid letting the situation get out of hand. "Look," she finally began, looking across at a still seething Draco, "I'm sorry you're feeling like this, but it's only been a week. You can't just expect to walk into our lives like this after all these years and expect me to… to totally change my lifestyle so that you can fit into it!"

The sound of a swiftly stifled yawn brought the attention of both adults back to Aurora, who was struggling to stay awake in order to listen to the conversation.

"Aurora, it's time you were back in bed," Hermione turned to her daughter, relieved for the distraction, "Come on."

"Oh, but Mummy—"

Getting to her feet, Hermione made to heft Aurora up into her arms, but Draco moved swiftly across the room and effortlessly scooped Aurora up. He carried the little girl back into her room with Hermione following close behind him.

"My little princess," he murmured, tucking her back into bed. "My beautiful one," he brushed her curls behind her ears, "go to sleep now." He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but refrained. Instead, he bent down, bestowing the already half-asleep child with a kiss on her forehead.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" Aurora asked sleepily, looking adoringly up at him.

"Not this time Angel," he replied, regret evident in his voice. "Now be a good girl for Mummy and me, by going to sleep." He bent and kissed her once more.

Hermione observing this interaction, could not help but frown with unease.

"Well, erm," she began hesitantly, "Aurora, it's time to say good night to Uncle."

"Good night Uncle," Aurora sighed, turn on her side and closed her eyes. At this, Draco straightened up.

"It's ok, I'll see myself out," he shrugged, not looking at Hermione, but moving towards the door with his jaw set.

"I—" Hermione started awkwardly, not knowing what to say next.

"We'll talk soon," he cut her off brusquely, as he left the room. A moment later there was a faint click as the front door closed behind him.

Hermione turned back to the bed, and without preamble asked, "Aurora, why did Uncle change your clothes?"

Aurora turned towards her mother and gave her a huge yawn. Evading the question, she shrugged her shoulders and replied, "Oh just because." She tugged the teddy bear she had been cuddling earlier closer to her and made to turn over. Hermione couldn't help noticing the teddy bear was one of those that Draco had bought her, and once again cursed him silently.

"There must have been a reason," she persisted, sitting down on the side of the bed and turning Aurora back to face her, "Come on now, tell me."

Aurora, recognising defeat, sighed, "Well, I woke up and you were not awound. I was hungwy, so Uncle said he'd make me some warm milk. He didn't know I followed him into the kitchen so when he turned awound suddenly with the glass of milk, he spilled it all ower me! Even Tiggs got wet! Uncle used his wand and cleaned Tiggs all up! I think he wanted to scor-gi or scor-something me, but I said I didn't want that brushy thing to scwub me."

_He used magic to make the milk? And magic once more to clean up? The nerve of that man!_ "And then what happened?" Hermione asked, "What did Uncle do?"

"Uncle said I had to change my top because it was all wet and sticky. I didn't want to change because I was still sticky with the milk. So Uncle said I needed another bath to get cwlean again. He took me into the bathwoom and gave me another bath. Oh Mummy! It was bwilliant! Uncle made all these big bath bubbles and me and uncle played with them." Aurora's eyes widened in remembrance, her sleep temporarily forgotten.

"He bathed you again?" Hermione could feel her muscles start to tense.

"Oh yes, and it was weally fun!"

"Then what happened?" Hermione interrupted, not wanting to hear any more about the fabulous bath time.

"Well, Uncle dwessed me in these clothes. I weminded him that he had to dwy my hair before I slept – and silly Uncle! – Did you know he doesn't know how to use the hair-dwyer? Well he used his wand again, and dwied my hair. After that Uncle wead me a stowy and then I went to sleep."

Hermione almost sighed in defeat. Talk about being undermined at every turn. No doubt he'd bought the pyjamas with him in the hope that they could be made use of. She could see that Aurora was beginning to tire, so she kissed the sleepy girl, tucked her in, and dimmed the night light, before leaving the room and leaving the door ajar.

_Damn Draco Malfoy!_ she fumed, making her way to her own room. _'All's fair in love and war', eh? Well, 'Desperate times call for desperate measures'!_ She had a lot of serious thinking to do and cursed Draco colourfully as she too, got ready for bed.

XoXoXoXo

Hermione stared up at the building before her. It was large and imposing, with many large windows looking out onto the wide road. Taking a deep breath, she slipped through the revolving doors and approached the reception desk, her heels clicking on the polished floor of the reception area.

"I'm here to see Mr Briggs," she began nervously.

The receptionist who looked as though she wasn't a day older than eighteen, reluctantly put down her fashion magazine and gave her an appraising look, which took in Hermione's lightly made up face, knee length black skirt and white blouse, and hair pulled back into a neat bun, before glancing down at the appointment book lying open before her.

"Name?" she grunted not looking up.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione replied, starting to feel slightly nettled at the girl's obvious boredom.

"Oh yeah, he's expecting you." The bored receptionist thumbed over her shoulder at a row of lifts and carried on, "Third floor."

"Thank you." Walking quickly over to the lifts, the metal work of which shone in the sunlight pouring in through the glass front of the building, she jabbed the button with an impatient finger, and stood back. After a moment, the doors to the lift nearest her slid silently open and she stepped into the small cage. She hoped that she was doing the right thing as she rode swiftly upwards.

In no time, the lift doors were opening and Hermione stepped out onto a thickly carpeted reception area. This floor, unlike the bustling lobby, was quiet. The carpet, a deep blue, blended in tastefully with the lighter blue and white furnishings, creating an impression of opulence. She knew that this floor housed the best solicitors and barristers in the country.

Moving forward, she approached a desk at which an older woman sat, writing busily on a memo pad.

"Ah, you must be Hermione Granger," the woman looked up and smiled.

Hermione guessed the stylish lady's age to be in her late forties or early fifties. A pair of rimless glasses perched on her nose and her grey-flecked hair was cropped very short.

"If you'll follow me, Mr Briggs is in his office." She led the way down the corridor and stopping before an oak door, knocked before opening it and standing aside to let Hermione in.

"Ms Granger is here," she informed the be-suited man who had been seated behind the large mahogany desk in the centre of the office, and who now came forward, hand outstretched.

"This is a pleasure indeed," Mr Briggs purred, shaking Hermione's hand. Behind her, the door closed with a soft click.

"Have a seat," he smiled, ushering her into a chair by his desk.

Hermione sat down and tried not to look as nervous as she felt. Glancing round the room she saw it was large. Bookshelves, on which stood many thick leather-bound volumes, lined the walls. In one corner, a drinks cabinet stood, the dark polished wood gleaming in the light from the large windows, which looked out on to the back of the building.

Seating himself, the solicitor smiled across the desk at Hermione saying, "I don't know about you, but I'm not one for formality. Please call me Peter; may I call you Hermione?"

Smiling stiffly, she nodded.

"Now," Peter smiled in assurance, "What can I help you with today?"

Clasping nervous fingers in her lap, Hermione looked into the kindly eyes of the solicitor seated before her and took a fortifying breath. "I understand that you advise on wizarding as well as muggle law," she said, trying to sound calm.

The man opposite her frowned slightly, his eyes widening. "Let's say for a moment, that your supposition is correct," he commented guardedly, "What of it?"

"I need some advice regarding wizarding law," she leaned forward slightly, "And was hoping that you may be able to help me."

Peter Briggs nodded, "May I presume that you're a witch, Hermione?" he asked tentatively, his dark eyes watching her shrewdly from beneath thick straight dark brows.

"Without a doubt," she nodded, "a witch… of muggle descent."

"In that case, what can I do for you? I must admit it isn't often that wizarding folk arrange to see me using muggle methods."

She smiled, "No I don't suppose they would. I thought this would be best as I don't want certain people in the wizarding world to know I've been seeking legal advice," she trailed off into silence, wondering how next to proceed.

Peter Briggs nodded, "I see." Then to dispel the young woman's obvious nerves, he ventured, "Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself before we go any further? I find it often helps my clients to give me a little background to themselves before we talk about the case. However, before we begin, let me assure you that nothing that is said in this room will leave it. Anything we discuss here today is confidential and will not be divulged to any third party unless with your prior consent." To reinforce his words, he pulled a wand out of his breast pocket.

Understanding his intentions, Hermione quickly withdrew her own wand from the pocket of her blouse. Leaning forward, Peter touched the tip of his wand to Hermione's. She watched as a thin stream of bluish light rose from the point at which the two wands had met and recognised that he had just performed the vow of secrecy which ensured that he could not divulge a word of their conversation to anyone without first obtaining her consent.

"There," he smiled, pocketing his wand, "I hope that puts your mind at ease. Now then, tell me more about yourself. It doesn't have to be related to the case at all – your likes and dislikes, family, that kind of thing would do."

Hermione sat back and started to tell him of her parents, of her discovery of the wizarding world, and briefly of her time at Hogwarts.

"So you know the esteemed Harry Potter," Peter stated with interest. "Go on then, which career path did you embark on after Hogwarts?"

"Healing, I trained at St Mungo's."

"When did you transfer over to Hanwell's?" Peter asked, making Hermione's eyes widen.

"How do you know…?"

"To be honest, I recognised you as soon as you entered the room," he smiled, "Although I wasn't sure you were here in the capacity of muggle or witch. Hermione is not a common name, and paired with Granger… well, let's just say that you're a celebrity in your own right. After all, Healer Granger is often featured in the pages of the Journal of Mediwizardry. I must apologise for keeping my own counsel regarding your background; often, in my line of work, I need to know the people behind the names that appear in the media."

"But you're a Solicitor working with muggle cases – hardly someone who would read the Journal of Mediwizardry," Hermione frowned.

"True," he nodded in agreement. "But I'm also a solicitor who happens to have a sister training to be a Medi-witch at St Mungo's. She often leaves her journals lying around the house and that's where I've seen your photograph. My sister has quite a few of your articles as well – part of her required reading for her current module of study. My wife and I often hear your name in conversations with her."

"Oh," Hermione muttered, slightly embarrassed. She hadn't realised that some of the articles she had published were on the reading lists of trainee Medi-staff.

"Now that I know a little more about you," Peter carried on, "let's cut to the chase. What can I help you with today?"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to speak, the words coming out stilted at first, but as she gained confidence, they came with greater ease. She spoke for a good five minutes and when she had finished, sat back watching the man opposite her nervously.

Peter sat for a long moment staring down at his desktop, his brows furrowed in thought. Finally, he lifted his gaze and looking Hermione squarely in the eyes, said, "What you're asking Hermione, is not impossible by any means, but you must be aware that it could backfire on you."

"Yes, I am aware of that," Hermione countered swiftly. "Please Peter, it is very important that the biological father of my daughter must be stopped from seeing her. The man's trouble and a bad influence – and believe me, that's putting it mildly."

"It's a shame that you have no evidence of the rape," the solicitor mused. "That in itself would have the desired effect to your advantage."

"Well, apart from my memories, which as we both know would be inadmissible in court, there's no clear evidence available," she conceded.

"What I'd like to know," he pondered, "is what he had hoped to gain by drugging you and then raping you. It just doesn't make any sense."

"I gave up trying to understand the logic behind it all years ago," she replied, shrugging, "We – that is, my family and a few close friends – had assumed it was an act of vengeance or mischief, but since Aurora was born, we've stopped speculating on him, and focussed more on Aurora. The reasons didn't really bother me until he reappeared in my life. I mean, I was barely out of my teens then, and it was hard to think clearly about an experience of which I had practically no memory, while worrying about the baby I was carrying."

"I suppose so," Peter sighed. "And now he's making difficulties for you. Yes, that is certainly tricky. Well, as wizarding law stands, the parent who has spent most time with the child gets priority, and that with that, in nine cases out of ten, the custody of the child. The only situation in which the other parent is given custody instead of the primary carer, is if the primary carer is unfit to care for the child for some reason." He scratched his chin thoughtfully, "There was a case a few years ago when that happened, though – I must look it up."

"Was it due to a monetary cause?" Hermione asked worriedly. At his look of bafflement, she elaborated, "What I mean is – was the primary carer in financial straits? Was the custody given to the parent who was of a better financial standing?"

"No, that wasn't the case at all. In fact, while the financial status of the parent is looked into for the welfare of the child, custody's not usually awarded just because of it. Now, if the primary carer suffers from a long-term illness that might affect the child, or has an serious addiction problem..."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "That's good to know. For a moment there I…" she trailed off at the expression on Peter's face.

"But I think you need to be aware that there's also a clause in wizarding family law that says if the non-primary carer can provide a better quality of life for the child or shows potential for better care…"

Peter didn't need to complete his sentence; Hermione knew that he had just warned her that what she was about to embark on might have devastating consequences for the life she currently had with Aurora.

"I understand," she responded neutrally, doing her best to keep her face expressionless as she looked back at him across his tidy desk.

"Nonetheless, I must reiterate that we do have a strong case on your side. Certainly, your daughter is given a high level of care, so I don't anticipate this clause being an obstacle," he gave Hermione a reassuring smile.

"Well, I certainly hope not. Honestly, I wouldn't put anything past Aurora's biological father."

"I tell you what – I'll start researching this immediately. A watertight case will make all the difference. Family law isn't exactly my speciality, so I want to read up on a few prominent cases before going any further," Peter watched her reaction closely at his admission.

Hermione sighed. "Still, if you could find out for me exactly what I'd be up against if this ends up before the Wizengamot, I would be most grateful. Better the enemy we know than the one we don't." She gave Peter a shaky smile as she stood up and gathered her things.

"Yes, I agree." he nodded. He hated cases like this where one parent would come out of the blue expecting to be welcomed with open arms by the deserted party. He had studied such cases during university as well as during his training. The children's emotions during such cases were usually not recorded in court transcripts, but it didn't take a judge to work out that usually the children took the brunt in such cases where they were fought over like property. This case though, looked pretty cut and dry. He couldn't foresee any complications and smiled inwardly at the thought of representing Healer Granger in front of the Wizengamot. If he managed to win this case, his prestige, already high in the muggle world, would be ensured in wizarding society. The only difficulty he foresaw was in not knowing the identity of the child's father – Hermione had been very uncomfortable revealing the man's identity. This was an initial meeting after all – no doubt she would divulge the man's name during their next meeting by which time he would have completed his research. Still, unless Aurora's father was from one of the few remaining powerful old Pureblood families with their money and connections which he doubted was the case, Hermione had certainly nothing to worry about. None of the old pureblood families would want to acknowledge a less than pureblood child, much less one born out of wedlock. The biological father he was dealing with was probably a professional wizard of around Hermione's own age, with a thoroughly irresponsible character since he'd raped and left the poor girl with the child. As to his motive of wanting custody of Aurora… well, who knew? It didn't matter to the case anyway.

He watched the smartly dressed young woman scoop up her handbag and turn to him.

"Thank you for your time," Hermione smiled.

"The pleasure, Hermione, was all mine," he said, escorting her to the door. "I will be in touch when I have concluded my research. In the mean time, if you could start keeping detailed records of exactly when your daughter's father comes to see her and what transpires during the meetings, it would be helpful."

A minute later, Hermione was once more standing in the lift, which whisked her down to the ground floor. Stepping out, she crossed the busy foyer and emerged out on the busy street outside. If she were to be truthful with herself, the interview had gone better than she had expected. They had discussed the rape in clinical terms, which had helped her distance herself from the whole thing. She was glad that she had taken Mrs Weasley's advice by going to see Peter Briggs. Draco Malfoy may be rich and influential, she thought grinning, but not even he could refute a wealth of evidence and the decision of the Wizengamot.

She had thought that they would be able to work things out and come to a mutual understanding about Aurora, but she had reckoned without Draco's manipulative nature in turning Aurora away from her. He knew full well that she could not provide Aurora with the luxuries he was now heaping on the child, and had used this as a foothold to gain the child's affection. Money, she thought cynically, certainly talked in some circumstances, but she would not let it ruin her relationship with her daughter. More importantly, she could not allow her daughter to be exposed to Draco's distorted pureblood values.

She knew that only something as drastic as this would ensure that Draco left her and Aurora be, he wasn't the kind of man who would listen to reason. No, this time she vowed, she would get the better of Draco Malfoy – the man's influence and money be damned! It was worth spending every spare knut to pay for Peter's services if it meant that she and Aurora could live peaceful and happy lives. She looked forward to her next appointment with the solicitor. If everything proceeded as planned, the wheels would be set in motion to ensure that Draco Malfoy had nothing evermore to do with her daughter.


	9. Chapter 8

Authors Note: Sorry for the ridiculously long wait for this chapter, I had major writer's bock which only lifted a few weeks ago. Then I was unwell for quite a long time in which I couldn't write and once the chapter was written, my betas computer broke down so what with one thing and another, this chapter has been delayed. Hopefully, its length should make up for the wait – please let me know what you think, things are getting explosive now. One more thing, this story deals with issues that are pretty nasty at the best of times and for which there isn't always a right or wrong answer. That's why reviews that are constructive really do help me. Thanks for your continuing support in this story and to my poor beta who deserves a meddle for editing this with a sick computer.

Chapter Eight

Draco whistled to himself as he strode in a leisurely manner down the bustling Hanwell's corridor, his step light and a smile playing about his mouth. His hands were thrust into the pockets of his tailored black robes as he negotiated his way to the quieter part of the hospital where the offices of the Healers were to be found. Soon, he reached the department for Surgical Magic, and a few quick short cuts later, he was standing in front of a solid oak door, with the name, 'Hermione Granger, Head of Department' inscribed on it.

Giving the door a sharp rap, he waited and a moment later, the door was opened by Hermione herself. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at her visitor, but good manners prevailing, she asked, "Can I help you?"

"Oh yes," he smiled back, his eyes travelling over her neat figure in its pristine silvery white Healers robes, "May I come in?"

She said nothing as she stepped aside to let him into the spacious office, shutting the door behind him.

Draco, still smiling, strolled across the room to look out of the large window facing the door. "Nice office," he commented casually, turning to face her, "not a bad view you have there."

"Is there a specific reason you're here?" she asked in a controlled voice, not moving away from the door, "I have a busy schedule so…" she trailed off, leaving him in no doubt as to her meaning.

Ignoring the ledgers lying open on her desk and the scrolls of parchment scattered in disarray around the books, he said easily, "I certainly have a good reason for being here; I wouldn't dream of wasting your valuable time otherwise," he grinned and carried on, "I've booked you a much needed holiday."

"Excuse me?" she moved away from the door to perch on the corner of her desk facing him, her eyes narrowed with distrust, "What do you mean booked me a holiday?"

"A holiday Hermione. You know, when someone goes away for a break?" He regarded her thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on the shadows beneath her eyes and the slight lines of strain around her mouth. Yes, this had certainly been a good idea, he thought.

"There's no need for you to do any such thing," she responded in a tight voice. "I'm far too busy to consider a holiday, so if you don't mind, I've work to do." She glanced at the books and papers scattered over her desk as she spoke, but Draco ignored her.

"Actually, you have some of your leave left – I checked. According to the records, you still have ten of the thirty days you are entitled to left to take. I also found out that the last time you went away for a break was over three years ago – and no, before you contradict me," he held up a hand to stall Hermione's protests, "staying a few days with Potter or Weasley doesn't constitute a holiday." He finished, smiling in satisfaction.

"My, my, we have been busy, haven't we?" Hermione retorted. "I won't go into how you managed to find that out, but I repeat: I don't need a holiday right now, thank you very much." She waved an eloquent hand towards the door, but Draco ignored it.

"Ah, but Aurora does," he broke in silkily. "She's been looking peaky these past few weeks, so it's high time you both got away for a while."

The resentful look she shot him said more clearly than words that she, too, had noticed Aurora's lethargy over the past few weeks and was worried about it.

"So? All children get run down sometimes, it's nothing unusual," she defended, glancing pointedly at the clock on the wall facing her.

"Most children get to go on holiday once in a while, for a change of scene and air, if nothing else," he countered. He saw by the hunching of her shoulders that she was only too aware of this. Pressing his advantage, he leaned forward and carried on, "Hermione, for Aurora's sake, if not your own, accept this holiday. She desperately needs a change of air and scenery as do you."

"That's all well and good, but unlike some, I have to budget and…" She bit out, glaring at him.

"No, you don't have to worry on that account," he reasoned calmly. "I've taken care of everything. The holiday's already booked and everything's sorted."

"Booked? Booked what exactly?" standing up straight, she shot him a mistrustful look from beneath lowered brows.

Taking his chance, Draco explained eagerly, "A nice cottage in Pembrokeshire for a few weeks. It's called Wynwood, and it adjoins the owner's house. The cottage occupies an advantageous position, with wonderful sea views to Caldey Island and Saundersfoot, as well as being within walking distance of the beach at Wisemans Bridge. It's actually within the National Trust Colby Estate and just a short drive from Colby Woodland Gardens."

The slightly bemused look on Hermione's face made him smile. Not even she could not be impressed with all that.

"It sounds like heaven," she commented, trying to keep her voice neutral, "but I don't think Aurora and I—"

"All the facilities of Tenby and Saundersfoot are a short drive away," Draco persisted. "Imagine, beautiful walks at your doorstep, or if you prefer, water sports, golf and horse riding. To cap it all, there is a private, enclosed garden, which would be an ideal area for Aurora to play safely. C'mon, don't you think it sounds wonderful?"

"You sound like a telly salesperson," she snapped, glowering, "You know, the ones that have their scripts written for them and for every person they manage to persuade to buy their wares, they get extra commission."

"Ah, but Wynwood does sound nice, doesn't it?" he pressed, ignoring her jibe.

"Well yes, but still—"Then, as though a thought had just struck her, she asked, "And where will you be all this time while Aurora and I are enjoying our holiday?"

"With you, of course," he grinned. "I need a break as well, you know. I'm only human after all. How better to rejuvenate than in the wilds of Wales?"

Her brows threatening to disappear into her hairline, she muttered, "I knew there was a catch in it somewhere, it seemed far too good to be true!"

Tamping down his annoyance, Draco shrugged, "It's a perfect time for us to gel together as a family without outside interference."

"Family?" she spluttered, staring at him. "I certainly wouldn't classify us as a 'family'!"

"Oh? I don't think Aurora would agree with you there," he countered easily, leaning back against the windowsill. "A father, a mother and their child would be termed a family by most people." Then seeing she was about to object, he continued more seriously, "Hermione, things haven't been going well for us lately, we both know that. Merlin, the tension between us is so thick whenever we're together, you could cut it with a knife. I wouldn't mind that, but it's effecting Aurora as well. Surely you've noticed how tense she becomes when you and I are in close proximity? She may only be four going on five, but she can still sense the hostility between us and that isn't good for her. We need to iron out certain matters for her sake, and how better to do that than on a holiday such as this?" Correctly interpreting her expression, he went on, "Don't worry about the sleeping arrangements, the cottage has three bedrooms, one for each of us."

He watched her pensive expression as she thought over his words, her teeth worrying her lower lip.

"I see what you're saying, but I don't think a holiday is necessary to sort things out between us," she argued. "I agree things have been a bit tense lately, but they can easily be rectified by other means."

Draco was earnest. "Other means? Perhaps. But think about it, Hermione, this would be the perfect opportunity to sort things out! For one thing, we'll be in neutral territory, and the grounds are large enough for us to retain our space. For another, we'll be away from work, so we'll be more relaxed when we deal with whatever we want to deal with. Face it; it'll be a nice rejuvenating break. Imagine all that sea and woodland and parkland!" Seeing that she was tempted, he added the clincher; "Look, we'll see what Aurora has to say about the idea and take it from there, shall we?"

"Aurora? What has she to do with this? She's only a child…"

"Who's perfectly capable of voicing an intelligent opinion," he defended. "I wouldn't have thought you were the type to underestimate children, Hermione."

"I'm not, but still…"

Was that panic in her eyes?

"Well then, we'll discuss this with Aurora this evening when I come round." He could tell by her expression that she wanted to argue further, but he did not give her a chance. He pulled out a brochure from his pocket, dropping it on to her desk as he exited the office. "You might want to read up on Wynwood before then. See you later."

They would continue this discussion tonight when Hermione had had a chance to consider his suggestion and he would hopefully have an ally in the shape of his daughter to back him up. Shutting the office door, he strode back down the corridor, robes billowing out behind him as he made his way towards the hospital exit. That had gone better than he had hoped; Hermione hadn't put up her usual amount of resistance. Probably because she had been taken by surprise by his suggestion, he grinned.

The rest of the day passed quickly for Draco, filled as it was with meetings and appointments. Soon, 7 pm rolled round and he was on his way to Hermione's flat, a box tucked under one arm. Apparating into the alley beside her apartment building, he strolled into the lobby and up the stairs and was soon standing outside her white painted front door, his finger on the bell.

A moment passed and then the door was flung open by a small figure clad in pyjamas and slippers, who on seeing him, squealed loudly, flinging herself against him.

"Uncle! Uncle, you came! I was waiting and waiting for you!"

Grinning broadly, Draco stepped into the flat, shutting the front door behind him. He noticed with disquiet the slight redness beneath Aurora's eyes and frowned. Had she been crying? Was that relief on her face?

Putting the box down on a small table by the door, he scooped her up hugging her tightly. "Is that so?" he asked, smiling at a frowning Hermione over Aurora's chestnut curls. Hermione's mouth was compressed into a tight line and she looked as though the cares of the world rested on her shoulders.

He followed Hermione into the sitting room, seating himself on the sofa with Aurora on his lap.

"Yes, I was," Aurora pouted. "Mummy said you were coming tonight, so I waited for you," she glanced at her tight-lipped mother as she spoke, and pressed herself more firmly against him.

Draco couldn't help the gratified feeling that welled up inside him at this news. Finally, he was starting to mean more to his child than just a mere acquaintance.

"Coffee?" Hermione's voice broke into his thoughts.

She was standing under the archway leading into the small kitchen, watching him, a pensive expression on her face.

"Thanks," he smiled. Handing her the box he had been carrying, he added, "I bought this. I know you'll both enjoy it."

Taking it from him, she opened it to reveal a freshly baked, crusty golden-topped apple pie and some chocolate éclairs oozing cream.

"Oh!" Aurora exclaimed, her eyes roving eagerly over the offerings in the box.

"Thank you," Hermione returned Draco's smile, as she went into the kitchen. Eyeing her daughter's enthusiasm for the éclairs, she added coolly, "Although, I must say, Aurora, those éclairs are bad for your teeth."

"Oh, but Mummy," the child pleaded, her eyes going round, "just one won't make my teeth fall out, will it? I will bwush them again before I go to bed, I pwomise!"

"Fair enough," her mother agreed with a coolness that pricked at Draco, and she went into the kitchen to make the coffee.

Draco frowned, something just wasn't right here. He had never heard Hermione speak so oddly to Aurora before. In an effort to lighten the charged atmosphere, he cuddled Aurora, asking her, "So what did you do at nursery today Angel?"

"Nothing," she replied pensively. Then biting her lower lip in the same way Draco had seen her mother do countless times while at Hogwarts together, she blurted, "Me and Annabelle had an argument. She said I had no Daddy and that children who have Mummies but no Daddies are bad and shouldn't be allowed to come to school and—"

"She said what?" Hermione interrupted in a shrill voice, having returned to the living room once the coffeemaker was turned on, "you didn't tell me this Aurora!" Two spots of colour had appeared on Hermione's cheeks as she spoke.

"You didn't let me," came the bitter reply, "you listened to what Annabelle's mummy said and wouldn't listen to me." She sat back, leaning against Draco, eyeing her mother through narrowed accusing eyes, and Draco saw there was hurt in their stormy grey depths. Her small shoulders were hunched in an attitude of defensiveness and he wondered what had gone on between mother and daughter. Both had seemed tense when he had come in, but he had put that down to Hermione's dislike of his visits, rather than a conflict between the two, although now he wasn't so sure.

In a few swift steps, Hermione was kneeling on the floor beside Draco, her hands on Aurora's shoulders. "Tell me now," she said quietly, and Draco saw anguish in her eyes, "What happened, Aurora?"

Aurora shrugged and Draco instinctively knew that she was trying not to show that she had been hurt by her mother's earlier refusal to listen to her.

"Why should I?" she retorted belligerently. "You didn't want to listen before."

"I'm sorry I didn't hear you out earlier," Hermione apologised, and Draco winced inwardly at the stricken look on her pale face. "I was angry with you because I thought that you'd deliberately been horrible to Annabelle because you didn't like her."

Aurora thought about this for a while before protesting, "She started it!"

"What did she do?" Draco asked calmly, tightening his arms around the small girl protectively.

"We were playing in the Wendy house and Annabelle said that I couldn't play with them as I don't have a Daddy. Jenny said that it didn't matter but Annabelle wouldn't let me play. She said that only people who had both their Mummy and Daddy are good enough to play together. I said that wasn't twue! What Annabelle said was wubbish! I could play in the Wendy house with them if I wanted to!" she gabbled not looking at either parent.

Her emotions getting the better of her, she paused and Hermione placed a reassuring arm round her shoulders. Aurora took a deep breath while both Draco and Hermione waited, the forgotten coffeemaker still bubbling in the background.

"Then Alex and Jack came in and they said… they said that Annabelle was wight. They said I was bad because I didn't have a daddy and couldn't play in the Wendy house with them. They said that the Wendy house has a daddy, but I don't have a daddy so I can't play with them. Then… then," her voice lowered, "Annabelle gwabbed my arm and twied to push me out of the house so I…" she trailed off.

"Then what happened?" Hermione asked, unconsciously leaning against Draco, as she looked into Aurora's face.

"I twied to push her away fwom me and she yelled." Her eyes moved from Hermione to Draco and her face grew determined. "Annabelle's such a coward! She shouted that I was hurting her and all I wanted to do was play in the Wendy house."

"That isn't what Annabelle's mother told me," Hermione sighed, her brows furrowing. "She said that you had hit Annabelle and spat at the two boys for no reason, that's why I was angry with you."

"There was a weason, a good one!" Aurora retorted, turning to Draco in order to hide her glistening tears from her mother.

"Hush princess," he comforted, wiping the tears away, "we know that now."

She buried her face into his shoulder and he sighed. Now he knew why Hermione had been so angry when he'd arrived. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he imagined Aurora spitting like a little wild cat at the two boys, but he quickly suppressed it.

The look of utter misery on Hermione's face as she looked at her daughter seeking comfort in his arms touched his heart. He didn't like to see her in pain, and while a part of him rejoiced at this advantageous turn of events, another part of him felt sorry for Hermione – she was clearly suffering. Leaning forward, he put a comforting arm round her. "C'mon Hermione," he murmured in a soothing voice, "Don't worry about this, we'll work something out."

The distressed woman shook her head. "It was only one before, but now there's three of them," she muttered brokenly, her head bowed, "where will it end?"

"What I'd like to know," Draco questioned grimly, "is where my Aunt was when all this was taking place!"

"She wasn't there today when I picked Aurora up. She's on sick leave, I think," she answered dejectedly, unconsciously taking comfort from Draco's arm round her. "The girls who normally help her in the nursery were running it alone. I suppose they couldn't have been watching the Wendy house at that time. Aurora didn't stand a chance; it was her word against three other children's after all." What Hermione didn't say, but implied was that it was the word of a child with a single mother against three children with married parents.

"They're not my fwends anymore!" Aurora broke in, anger lacing her voice, "tomowwow I will go to Annabelle and Alex and Jack and… and…" she made a violent motion with her hand, as though ripping a head off an imaginary neck.

"Oh no you won't," Hermione rebuked sternly, pulling herself out of Draco's grasp. "You were told off today because you attacked Annabelle and spat at Alex and Jack. And even though you were provoked, it's still not right to retaliate. You should have gone to the teachers or told me. I don't want you to get into any more trouble!"

"Hermione," Draco began gently, deciding that it would be wise to interrupt before things spiralled out of control between mother and daughter, "let's have that coffee now, shall we?" He shot a significant look at Aurora, whose lower lip was trembling.

Hermione, taking the hint nodded her head at Draco's suggestion and left the room.

While she was busy in the kitchen, Draco lifted Aurora's unhappy face with a gentle hand. "Princess," he looked into eyes identical to his own, "Mummy loves you very much and she cares for you. She doesn't want you to get into trouble. What you did today – being caught fighting – really upset her; you shouldn't have done it—"

"But—"

Draco stayed her interruption with a finger to her lips. "Shh… I know, sweetheart. I know you were provoked. I know Annabelle, Alex and Jack started it. But there are many ways to get back at them, Aurora," his eyes bore down into hers, "and the way you did it was the least effective way."

Aurora's eyes widened.

"Then what should I—"

Placing a kiss on the tip of her nose he smiled. "Let me handle it for now," he replied, gesturing towards the kitchen, just as a calmer Hermione appeared at the doorway with a coffee tray. "Now, time to have that éclair I bought for you, and let's put this aside for now."

Thus pacified, Aurora sat quietly next to Draco on the sofa, and thanked her mother for her éclair. Hermione sat on the other side of Aurora with her own plate of apple pie, fiddling with her spoon and not eating.

Smiling, Draco watched Aurora work her way through the food before her enthusiastically. He leaned over to wipe a dollop of cream from her chin with his handkerchief and teased, "Where do you put all that food, Aurora?"

"In my tummy, of course!" came the muffled response round a mouthful of flaky pastry and cream, her eyes rolling at Draco's question.

"How many times have I told you not to speak with your mouth full, Aurora?" Hermione asked, wincing, "it's such an awful habit!"

"It's amazing though, that such a small person can consume so much," Draco carried on, while Aurora demolished her éclair and eyed the box on the table in which three more unclaimed éclairs still sat.

"That's enough éclairs for you tonight," Hermione said, noticing the direction of Aurora's gaze. "Come on now, finish your milk and then it's bedtime for you, young lady."

While Aurora was drinking her milk, Hermione responded to Draco's question with a half smile. "I was the same at her age; I ate loads, but was still a bag of bones. My parents used to joke I had hollow legs, but no amount of food seemed to make any difference."

Draco chuckled. "Likewise for me. I remember how my parents would stuff me with food for they claimed I looked malnourished, but no matter how much I ate, I could never put on much weight. In fact, my mother was so worried about my weight that she would send me weekly packages of sweets and cakes at Hogwarts, in case I wasn't eating enough!"

Hermione smiled absently. Getting up, she tugged a contented Aurora to her feet and hustled her out of the room.

Draco followed as they went into the bathroom and watched, as a sleepy Aurora brushed her teeth with her mother's help. He saw with relief that both seemed intent on putting the past few hours behind them. Aurora didn't struggle when Hermione, having washed and dried her face, knelt and proceeded to smother the small girl in kisses. On any other day, she might have struggled against her mother's tight hold and tried to pull away, but tonight she needed the reassurance only Hermione could provide.

Draco stood aside as Hermione, scooping Aurora up, carried her to her room, watching silently as she tucked the duvet around the sleepy child.

"Can you wead me a stowy, Mummy?" Aurora asked in a drowsy voice.

"No darling. You're too tired tonight. Go to sleep now," Hermione's soothing voice shook as she spoke. She kept her back to Draco as she made a great fuss of straightening the already neat bedclothes.

Draco moved to the side of the bed. Bending down, he kissed the half-asleep Aurora, whose eyes were closing. For a while he and Hermione stood together watching her, both their minds busily working out ways of protecting this child, who was the centre of both their existences, from the scorn of a rigid society.

"She's asleep," Hermione whispered after a few minutes. Each bent down to kiss the angelic looking Aurora and crept from the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Once back in the sitting room, Hermione began to scoop up the crockery, stacking it neatly on the coffee tray. Draco suspected she needed something to do with her hands and so said nothing as she carried it all into the kitchen, placing it on the draining board.

"I don't know what to do," she blurted out turning to face him, anguish in her eyes. "It was manageable when it was only Annabelle Mullings picking on Aurora… I mean that's just one girl and Aurora could avoid her. But now… now there's Jack Creevy and Alex Zabini, two more of her classmates to avoid. Then it was only a matter of avoiding a pureblood prejudice, but the boys are halfbloods…"

"There are some things that won't change no matter whether you're muggleborn or a pureblood," Draco explained gently. "While contemporary muggles might accept single parenthood, for centuries wizards have placed a great emphasis on the nuclear family as a foundation to our society and the basis of a person's character. I doubt that'll change any time soon."

"Contemporary muggles?" Hermione frowned.

"Living in the States for the past five years opened my eyes to a few things about muggles," he shrugged.

"Well, that's all very well; I mean, I know the nuclear family is ideal for bringing up a child, but the fact remains that in Aurora's case, there's nothing I can do about that. I'm an unmarried single mother. I can't do anything to change that!"

"Yes there is," Draco contradicted in a serious voice, hoping against hope that she would listen carefully to what he had to say. "Hermione, you can change Aurora's situation in a heartbeat." His heart hammering furiously, he took a step towards her, knowing by all that was Slytherin that this was the opportunity he had been waiting for. "Marry me, Hermione. Marry me, and let Aurora have her family."

She blinked, uncomprehending. "What?" She stared at him as though he'd lost his sanity, her worry about Aurora temporarily forgotten.

"We could get married Hermione," he repeated. "It's the perfect solution," he took another step towards her, willing her to understand and agree to his proposal.

"I don't think—"she began, but Draco interrupted,

"Hermione, we both want what's best for Aurora," he argued urgently, "and this ostracism she faces will only increase as she grows older! Do you think you can hide behind your made-up marriage to a muggle? You're Hermione Granger, the famous healer! The minute Aurora leaves my Aunt's nursery; the Daily Prophet will have a field day digging up her lineage!" He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Taking a breath, he tried another tack; "Think of this from Aurora's point of view. She'll have what every child deserves, loving parents who will always be there for her. No one – not even the Mullings would dare to pick on her if she had the Malfoy name to protect her."

Hermione was silent, and Draco took it as a good sign that she was considering this angle. She suddenly looked up, biting her lower lip, shaking her head. "That may be so, but you and I—"

"Can grow to care for one and other," he intervened, moving another step towards her. "I agree that things between us haven't always been as amicable as they could be, but given time we'll learn to live with each other's differences—"

"No, Draco," she shook her head, bringing her hands up to cup her temples, "There's simply too much history between us! There won't ever be time in all eternity to resolve our differences. Marriage to you is not the solution at all. There must be something else I could do."

"Marriage is the only realistic solution, we both know that," he urged. "Aurora can take her rightful place in the Malfoy family and know the stability of having two parents – surely you can see that?"

"No," she shook her head again, "No, if marriage were the solution, I'd have married ages ago for I didn't have any lack of opportunities."

Draco felt a twinge of something at the thought that Hermione could very well have been married, and his family could very well have belonged to someone else.

"In fact, for Aurora's sake, I avoided marriage. Don't you see? A marriage wherein there's no love, be that between the partners or as may have been the case with me, love between my husband and Aurora, might be detrimental to Aurora's emotional well-being! For me to marry you—"she couldn't continue, but her meaning was clear.

Draco could feel desperation start to take hold of him; he knew he had to make her see reason and fast. Moving the final few steps, he trapped her between himself and the sink. Placing his right arm around her shoulders, he tilted her chin up with his left hand so that she was looking him directly in the face. "Please Hermione," he entreated, "please give me a chance? I know you don't like me now, but let me prove to you that given time things will work out between us, if not for your own sake, then for Aurora's."

"I…I don't know…There's too much that can go wrong and then everyone would get hurt," she argued back, shaking her head, but with less vehemence than before.

It was obvious to Draco that his proximity was having an effect on her and he intended to use this to his advantage. The fact that she did not push him away was reason enough for him not to give up.

"True," he agreed, running a finger down the side of her face, "but if we both make the effort to try to make it work, then surely it'll minimise the risk? Give me a chance to do now what I would have done five years ago in a heartbeat, had you informed me of your pregnancy. I promise I won't make any demands on you – Merlin, we can even have separate bedrooms if you prefer."

That slight reference to her pregnancy five years ago was a mistake. H could see that even though Hermione had started to weaken, that reminder had somehow caused her eyes to flinch at the memory. Not giving her a chance to think of a comeback, he went on quickly, "Hermione, how about this; why don't we have a trial period to see if we're at least compatible? It needn't be a big deal – we can go out together a few times, sometimes with Aurora, sometimes without."

He cursed inwardly. She was not so easily diverted.

"No, it'll never work in a million years," she said with more conviction. "The idea isn't even worth consideration!" She pushed him away and paced agitatedly round the small kitchen, her fingers rubbing her temples furiously, "I'm touched at your suggestion but…"

"But what?" he snapped. His disappointment at the turn of their exchange, coupled with his self-castigation for inadvertently bringing up things best left in the past, laced his voice with impatience. "I have as much right to see Aurora grow up as you do, Hermione! In case it slipped your mind, she shares as many of my genes as yours! I have as much parental rights to her as you!" He turned away from Hermione, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Hell, she still refers to me as Uncle," he breathed out, pain in his voice, "Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

The question was rhetorical, and she did not answer.

The silence stretched. He continued, "Our relationship should and will be made public. I'll be damned if my own flesh and blood sees me as nothing more than one of her many 'Uncles'!" The vehemence at his last words, the sneer he gave, told her more clearly than words how much he hated this form of address.

"I… I understand what you're saying," she attempted to placate, "but might I remind you that for the last five years—"

"I didn't know of Aurora's existence!" He turned back to her, his voice raised. "And whose fault was that? Dumbledore knew exactly where I had gone, and if you'd thought about it for even one minute you'd have worked that out."

"All I wanted to do at that time was get as far away from you as humanly possible," she snarled glaring at him.

Ignoring her remark he went on, "If I'd known of your pregnancy, I'd have come back and married you then and there, you know that!"

"Well, now you know of Aurora's existence," she shrugged wearily, her anger draining from her, "so what's the problem?"

Her calmness grated at him more than her anger did. Taking several deep breaths to suppress the urge to shake her, Draco replied, "Yes, now I know of her existence. Nonetheless, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I've spent time alone with her. And looking at the way things are, I seriously doubt that if left to you, that'll change." He stayed her protests with a raised hand, "You know full well the impediments you put in place for me to see Aurora. I think it's high time I had a say in how much I get to interact with my daughter! I want to spend more time with her and have her call me Daddy!"

Hermione's face paled. "No," she hissed, "You can't!"

His voice gentled as he said, "Hermione we both know that you don't stand a chance if the law is dragged into this. I want to give my child my name and have her recognised as a Malfoy. And what better way to do this than for us to marry? No one will raise an eyebrow. Aurora will officially be a Malfoy, even though both of us know it's her birthright. Besides," he hesitated, "this way, it'll also be a help to you Hermione."

"A help?" she asked scornfully.

Draco nodded. "You won't be alone in bringing Aurora up; it'll be something that we can do together. You'll have more time to devote to yourself and you won't have to constantly worry about who's looking after our daughter or where the money to fix the leak in the roof will come from."

At her disbelieving gasp he went on, "Yes, I know all about the eight times over the last three years you have had to borrow money from Gringott's to cover the money you insist on paying Molly Weasley for babysitting Aurora; the repairs to the flat when the pipes burst two winters ago; your new crystal wand when your old one stopped functioning… and I know for a fact that a decent crystal wand is in the region of five thousand galleons, and in your profession you would naturally need the best. It nearly crippled you to pay them back, especially with the interest rates they levy, but somehow, you're managing it by buying yourself time, and scrimping on anything and everything – even to the point of going without food yourself during the day." He had, by this time, approached a stunned Hermione who was staring at him as though she had never seen him before, "I also know that you had to borrow from both Potter and Weasley a while back to pay back a part of your Gringott's loan and that you still owe them a substantial sum. I know about the money your muggle parents give you monthly to help subsidise Aurora's nursery fees, which are at least three times higher than those of the muggle nursery she went to before her innate magic began showing. I also know how much of your salary goes to Gringott's monthly to keep their credit goblins at bay. The rest is spent on feeding and clothing Aurora, taxes, utility bills and other such things. Why you refused to accept the financial support I offered you, is beyond me but we won't go into that now."

She stood as though stunned her eyes wide in horror. Falteringly, she asked, "How…How did you know about all that?"

Draco sighed, gesturing Hermione to a seat at the dining table, set into a small alcove leading off the kitchen. Taking the seat opposite her, he continued, "When I found out of Aurora's existence, I got someone to do some research into what you've been doing since Aurora was born. The state of your finances was the easiest data to collect." Steepling his fingers before him, he concluded, "Hermione, if you married me, you'll never again have to worry about money. Wouldn't that be a weight off your shoulders?"

"I suppose," she agreed reluctantly, "but that shouldn't be a reason for getting ma—"

"Tell me, when was the last time you bought yourself something new to wear?" His eyes raked over her faded jeans and slightly frayed t-shirt.

Her scowl confirmed his suspicion that for the last few years, she'd been making do with what she had already owned, and that her not inconsiderable transfiguration skills had been put to regular use on her meagre wardrobe.

"I can't remember," she replied, not looking at him. "Anyway, it's not a big deal," she shrugged. "It's not like Medi-staff need an extensive wardrobe to work," she rolled her eyes making light of Draco's implication, "We wear uniforms, for goodness sake! Besides, I haven't the time to go shopping, which is just as well," she shrugged again.

Draco nodded, acknowledging that while she had sidestepped his point regarding her spending habits, she was aware that he knew about her financial state and was uncomfortable. He decided to change tact, knowing that it was useless to flog a dead thestral.

"I think it's time my mother met Aurora," he stated simply.

"No," Hermione returned, her eyes wide with shock.

"Mother has the right to be introduced to her granddaughter," he leaned back in his chair, his voice cool. "How would your mother feel if somewhere in the world, she has a beautiful granddaughter she would love to distraction, but her very existence was withheld from her?" At her flinch, he nodded. "Exactly."

"Look," he leaned forward, "I don't intend to make a big fuss out of this. I just want my daughter to meet her grandmother. In fact, we can introduce Aurora as your child. Knowing Mother, the alternative might get somewhat messy." His lips curled slightly at this understatement.

"You seem to be very clear about what you want," Hermione retorted acidly, folding her arms defensively before her. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had been planning this for a while now."

Draco bit back a smile. It would never do to tell her that since that day at Flourish and Blott's where he saw Hermione running down the corridor to pick Aurora up, he had been thinking of nothing else. He had hoped to put the idea of marriage to her in the wilds of Wales, but the opportunity by way of Aurora's nursery bullies had had a greater impact on Hermione's insecurities with regards to Aurora's well-being, than anything he had planned to say or do. Maybe they could still take that holiday once they were married; it would certainly be a much more satisfying experience going to the cottage married… and once Hermione was married to him… well, he could be very persuasive when he wanted to be, he mused.

He gave a dismissive shrug of the shoulders, "Aurora is my daughter, after all, and it pains me to see her hurt, especially when I know I have the means to provide for her every wish."

Sighing, he turned the conversation back to the problem at hand. "Hermione," he leaned forward again, "Look, you feel as I do about the injustice Aurora has to face at school – and she's not even five yet. You'll do anything for Aurora's well-being, and you know it's what I'll do too. I'm sure you'll agree that desperate times call for desperate measures."

He watched as she closed her eyes, her shoulders slump in defeat. "Yes," she exhaled with a nod. "Look Draco, I really need to think about this properly before we go any further. What you're asking is insane. Considering our history and our feelings for each other," she gave him a wry smile, "it's an even bigger step."

The irony was not lost on Draco – he knew exactly what he felt about her and in her beautiful stubbornness, it pained him that she failed to see the truth of the matter.

"I mean," she continued, her finger tracing the woodgrain on the table between them, "putting the financial aspects of this aside, what if a year or so down the line, one of us meets someone and falls in love? Divorce in the wizarding world is no small matter."

Draco willed his face to remain impassive. Over his dead body would she divorce him for another man oh no! He'd make sure that once they were married, she'd be his and his alone! As for him finding someone later on… he suppressed a mirthless laugh. All he wanted had ever wanted was right here in this flat and he knew that as night followed day that this would never change.

"You're leaping twenty steps ahead," he said casually, preparing to depart. It was getting late, and he could see that the evening's emotional rollercoaster was beginning to fray Hermione. "You're worrying about things that may never happen."

"I'm not," she retorted, walking with him, as he made his way towards the front door. "Marriage cannot be undertaken lightly… and we do have to think about this possibility, you know."

"We never did get around to talking about Wynwood," he gave her a wry smile, turning to face her at the door. "But remember, one step at a time, okay?" Bending down, he kissed her cheek and before she could argue any further, he pulled open the front door and let himself out of the flat.

He smiled to himself as he prepared to Disapparate. He had planted the idea of marriage to him firmly in her mind, and knowing Hermione she would think of nothing else all night. Oh yes, she would come up with objections by the bucket load, but this afternoon's events had frightened her badly, and he knew that she would go to any lengths to protect Aurora from such prejudicial attitudes. It had also been a shock to her, to have her financial history laid bare before her. It had reinforced the fact that she could not win against him in court if she was foolish enough to try, and Draco had his suspicions on that count.

Feeling more hopeful than he had felt in a while, he Disapparated.

XoXoXoXo

The hands on the grandfather clock in the hall pointed to 3:15 exactly. Draco tried not to fidget as he waited for his mother to arrive. Then a moment later, there was a loud crack and there she was.

"Draco darling," she exclaimed, coming forward and hugging him, "I hope I wasn't late."

"No not in the least, Mother," he greeted the elegantly robed witch. "How was your morning?" he asked, without any real interest. His mother was, at his instigation, paying a quick visit to England and had spent the morning with all her old society friends, shopping and 'catching up', as she liked to phrase it.

"Oh wonderful! It was so nice catching up with all my old British friends, but that's not what I've been looking forward to all day. Is it time?"

"Yes, I said we'd meet them in Angelo's." Draco resisted the temptation to glance at the clock again. He had been looking forward to this moment all day and knew that it had been the lure of finally meeting his mystery 'young lady' that had bought his mother to England post-haste.

"A good choice," Narcissa approved. "I must say I'm looking forward to meeting this young lady of yours. The child sounds charming as well," she added as an afterthought. Well, beggars couldn't be choosers, and it was enough that Draco had a lady friend as opposed to all those nasty rumours circulating amongst her society friends about his lack of interest in women. So what if his lady friend was a widow with a young daughter? At least she was a witch, and if things turned out well, Narcissa could look forward to more grandchildren, even though Draco would probably adopt the witch's girl as his own. "Shall we go then?" she smiled at her son.

They Disapparated to appear a moment later in the foyer of a bustling restaurant done out in red and white, with a black marble floor.

"This way," Draco smiled, holding out his arm to his mother. They moved towards a doorway into a large room, from which the laughter and chatter of families taking tea echoed.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy," a waiter stopped beside them,"if you would like to follow me. Everything's ready, although the rest of your party haven't arrived yet."

They followed the waiter into the richly carpeted room. A crystal chandelier twinkled down on them, while large windows let in the afternoon sunlight. The walls were decorated in a rich burgundy, contrasting with the lighter red of the carpet. Tables were placed discretely in alcoves to allow their occupants some privacy.

"I've not been here for years," Narcissa smiled. "It hasn't changed in the least since my last visit, which must have been what? Six or seven years ago?"

"Oh no, madam," the waiter responded. "Angelo's prides itself on tradition; everything here's as it always has been since the restaurant opened."

They had reached the table Draco had reserved. Situated in a corner, it was beside a large window, looking out onto a craggy mountain just outside Hogsmeade, and shielded from passers-by by a large leafy palm almost as tall as Draco, standing in solitary splendour in a ceramic urn.

"Would you like to wait for the rest of your party before ordering?" the waiter asked, deferentially pulling out Narcissa's chair for her.

"Yes, they shouldn't be long now," Draco told him. "A young woman by the name of Hermione Granger and her little girl."

Nodding and bowing, the waiter left them and as soon as he was out of earshot, Narcissa asked eagerly, "Hermione Granger? You don't mean the healer, do you?"

Draco nodded.

"My, my, Draco, she's a good catch. I saw a picture of her not so long ago in a journal of Healing and she looks quite presentable. A tad thin, though. How old is she?"

Draco rolled his eyes at his mother's obvious curiosity and approval. She had wanted him to settle down from the age of sixteen and start producing grandchildren – as if it were possible to do so at Hogwarts! As it was, he suspected that if he had presented her with a mountain troll as a prospective daughter-in-law, she would have made an effort to get on with it in her desperation to get him married.

"She's my age," Draco answered absently, craning his neck to see if he could see Hermione or Aurora.

"Oh yes, of course! She was in your year at Hogwarts, was she not? You were always complaining about her beating you in every subject – how could I have forgotten? Well, I'm glad that you finally realised that intelligence in a woman is a virtue not to be scoffed at. And her child…"

"Hermione," Draco interrupted at that moment, spotting Hermione coming towards them, holding a reluctant Aurora firmly by the hand. He got up and moving swiftly down the long room, went to meet them.

Narcissa craned forward in her seat, wanting to get a good look at this woman who seemed to have achieved the impossible by working her way into Draco's heart. Soon, Draco was ushering a young woman dressed simply in pale pink robes, before him. Narcissa's eyes moved to the child beside the woman. Dressed in a cotton sundress of light blue, she presented an adorable picture with her shiny chestnut curls tied back in a blue ribbon the same shade as the dress. She couldn't see the child's face for she was staring at the floor.

"Mother," Draco smiled, reaching their table, "I'd like to introduce Hermione to you."

Narcissa rose to her feet, taking Hermione's small, work roughened hand in her own and smiling at her. "My dear, I have heard so much about you," she lied smoothly. In actual fact, Draco had told her practically nothing about the woman he had wanted her to meet, saying only that he was sure the two would get on when they met.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs…" Hermione began, smiling stiffly, but was cut off by the other woman.

"Oh please, call me Narcissa! All this formality makes me feel positively ancient!" she smiled. "And who is this?" She turned her attention to the child standing beside Hermione, who was looking anywhere but at her.

"This," Draco said proudly, his hands on the girl's shoulders, "is Aurora!"

Kneeling down so she was at the child's eye level, Narcissa gazed into the small hart-shaped face and felt a jolt of surprise run through her. Recovering swiftly, she exclaimed in a bright voice, "Aurora. Now, what a pretty name for such a pretty girl!"

Aurora didn't reply as she gazed back at this strange lady. She didn't want to be here. Granddad had promised her a ride in his new car, but she had to come here and talk to this lady instead. What was worse, her mother had forced her to wear a dress! Aurora hated wearing dresses and skirts, and she wasn't pleased in the least.

"Say hello to Narcissa, darling," Hermione coaxed.

"Hello," Aurora intoned, and didn't elaborate.

Standing up, Narcissa smiled. "Its all right, most children are shy on first meeting strangers; no doubt she'll become more talkative as she gets to know me."

"Come Hermione, Aurora, let's sit down." Draco pulled out both chairs and picking Aurora up, settled her beside her mother. Then going round to his own seat, he sat down facing Aurora and winked. His poor little princess was clearly nervous and he wanted to put her at her ease.

"What would you like to eat Aurora?" Narcissa asked. "How about a nice big ice cream sundae with a flake and chopped nuts?"

Aurora leaned forward to gaze at the picture of the ice cream on the menu.

"Oh Mummy," she gasped, forgetting all about granddad's new car in light of this unexpected treat, "Can I have that please? With a bit of stwawbewwy sauce on the side?"

Draco saw that Narcissa was enchanted with Aurora's manners.

"Of course you can, darling," Hermione replied as she put an arm round Aurora, who grinned up at her, her earlier bad mood having evaporated. "But will you finish it all? It looks very big."

"Oh yeah, no pwoblem!" Aurora gave a cheeky wink and a 'thumbs-up' gesture in response.

Her audience all burst out laughing at this and Narcissa asked, "Who were you trying to copy when you said that?"

"No one," Aurora answered, shooting her a swift narrow eyed look from the security of Hermione's embrace. "I wasn't twying to copy anyone, but Uncle Won sometimes says it, so I say it too."

"Uncle Ron's a grown up," Hermione explained hugging her more tightly and still chuckling, "he can say things like that."

"So can I!" Aurora contradicted, "Uncle Won says its cool to say that. He says it's… it's making a point!" Please that she had remembered this instruction, she sat back.

Hermione and Narcissa were still smiling broadly at Aurora's cheek as the waiter came over to their table, but Draco frowned, jealousy coursing through him. He knew, of course, that Hermione was in frequent contact with Potter and Weasley, and that they had supported her since Aurora's birth, but Aurora's emulation of 'Uncle Won'… he felt as if he had been robbed of all that was precious to him. The thought that Ron Weasley, part of the reason he had never been able to get near Hermione back in Hogwarts, had more influence over his daughter than he, had probably been there when Aurora had all her baby 'firsts', and was still closer to Aurora than he'd been thus far, grated on Draco's nerves. No, the sooner he got Aurora away from the influence of all her 'uncles', the better.

Pasting a smile on his face, he leaned across the table and tilting the little girl's chin up, asked, "Ice cream then, Angel?"

"Yes please, Uncle, the big one with the flake and nuts on it, with a bit of stwawbewwy sauce on the side!"

"Coming right up, miss!" the waiter smiled, "Would you like a wafer as well?"

"A what?" A puzzled expression crossed her small face.

"A wafer, darling," Draco explained, brushing an errant curl from her forehead. "It's a thin biscuit that you can eat the ice cream with."

"It's very nice with ice cream," Narcissa encouraged, looking thoughtfully into the child's grey eyes and then glancing at Draco. She did not miss the tightening of Draco's mouth every time Aurora called him 'Uncle'.

"Ok then," Aurora agreed, not sounding too sure.

Ordering a traditional cream tea for himself, Hermione and his mother, Draco sat back, his inner composure regained. If he wanted this meeting to continue smoothly, he must control his emotions better. His mother knew him only too well.

"I was just saying to Draco before you arrived, Hermione, that I had seen a photo of you in an American Journal of Healing," Narcissa smiled. "For someone as young as yourself, you have achieved an extraordinary amount; you're so talented."

"Oh no," Hermione also sat back in the plush chair, shaking her head modestly. "Not talent. It's merely a case of interest. My interest lies in Healing, so I devote all my spare energies to it."

"You're too modest, Hermione," Draco intervened, looking at the brunette. Turning to his mother, he added proudly, "She's the youngest Healer on the Board of Directors at Hanwell's Hospital."

"And your parents?" Narcissa asked. "One of the articles I've read said they are healers too, I believe."

"No, they aren't," Aurora chipped in helpfully, "Gwanddad and Gwandma are dentists." She clearly expected Narcissa to know what this meant.

Narcissa didn't disappoint and turning her attention to the small girl said, "That is so interesting! Have you been to their surgery then, Aurora?"

Draco watched with an inward smirk, as Narcissa's eyes flicked between his and Aurora's faces. His mother was hard pressed not to smile at Aurora's precociousness.

"Lots of times," Aurora dismissed airily, enjoying the attention of the adults. "They have all these dwills for making holes in people's teeth, and bits for polishing them, and bits for scwubbing them clean," she finished knowledgeably.

Draco felt pride for his daughter well up within him – she was so clever and articulate, if only he could acknowledge her out loud as his! He knew however, that doing so might jeopardise all he had worked so hard for over the past forty-eight hours. He didn't want only Aurora, and the incentive to continue with his plans was the woman sitting beside her. Yes, there would be time to gloat over Aurora later on, for now though, he had to be content with more subtle methods.

"Hmm, that's a lot of bits indeed," Narcissa agreed, with a very mock serious look on her face. "Tell me, Aurora, do you go to nursery school now? After all you're a big girl and big girls go to nursery." She gave the little girl a charming smile as she spoke.

"Yeah, I go to Aunty Andwomeda's nursewy evewy day. Mummy says that when I'm five, I'll go to the big childwens' school." Aurora sat back emulating the grown ups, trying not to fidget with the silverware laid out before her.

For some reason Draco couldn't work out, Hermione frowned, but said nothing, a polite smile on her lips.

Surprised, Narcissa turned to the other two. "Are there magical schools for young children now? I hadn't realised."

"As far as I know, there aren't," Draco frowned in puzzlement.

Rescuing the saltcellar from her daughter's clutches, Hermione explained sweetly, "Oh I wasn't thinking of sending Aurora to a magical school actually. I want Aurora to benefit from attending a muggle primary school. There are some excellent ones near our flat, and I'm going to enrol her into one soon."

Draco nearly dropped his napkin in shock. Narcissa too, looked shocked. Leaning forward in her seat, the older woman asked, "But my dear, I wouldn't have thought…that is, the child is magical, isn't she?"

Was that alarm in her eyes? Draco wanted to laugh out loud.

"Oh yes, she's magical," Hermione replied calmly. Tugging Aurora's napkin, which she was attempting to make into an aeroplane out of her hands, and smoothing it over her knees, "I think a muggle primary education would be good for Aurora. For one thing, it will expand her horizon before she attends Hogwarts. For another, attending primary school will alleviate the need to hire tutors to teach her the basics of reading, writing and Mathematics. The discipline of studying with her peers will stand her in good stead at Hogwarts." She shot Draco a look, daring him to defy her, as she spoke.

"I see," Narcissa nodded, smiling politely as she watched with barely contained amusement the way Hermione yanked Aurora's skirt, which had ridden up to her thighs, down over her knees.

"I don't like dwesses," Aurora protested as her mother replaced her now rumpled napkin over her lap, diverting Draco and Narcissa's attention from Hermione, "they are howwible and won't let you cwoss your legs pwoperly."

"But all little girls wear dresses," Narcissa smiled, "they're so pretty."

"I don't wear dwesses. They're silly and won't let you wun and climb twees and do fun things," Aurora grumbled, "but Mummy said I had to today!" She shot a disgusted look down at her own dress, before glaring up at her mother, while attempting to cross her legs on her chair which Hermione promptly leaned over and uncrossed.

"Real little tomboy," Draco commented proudly, an affectionate smile brushing his lips.

"Annabelle wears dwesses and they look howwible," Aurora informed the adults pouting, "but Annabelle's howwible so…"

Luckily, the waiter arrived at that moment, bearing her ice cream sundae in a long glass. He grinned at her as he handed her a long handled spoon. "There you are miss, wafer and all."

"Thanks," Aurora grinned back, her hate of dresses forgotten as she looked at the large ice cream before her.

The waiter proceeded to lay out a bone china tea set, and dexterously transferring a three-tier cake stand onto the table between Hermione and Narcissa. He murmured, "Enjoy your tea," before gliding silently away.

As Narcissa poured, Hermione and Draco both took scones from the cake stand.

Draco watched as Aurora began attacking her ice cream with determination, her chin soon coated in white. He resisted the urge to wipe it clean and concentrated instead on his own buttered scone, which he had to admit was very good. Glancing over at Hermione, he saw she wasn't eating, but crumbling the scone between her fingers nervously. He knew she didn't want to be here as much as Aurora didn't want to put on that dress, but he hadn't given her much choice regarding meeting his mother. He knew instinctively that the longer he waited for this encounter to happen, the longer she'd have time to protest the marriage; the more she protested, the longer the vicious cycle of waiting would drag on. Well, he'd waited long enough, and he would not back down now, not now that he had what he most wanted in life almost within his grasp.

"Draco?"

His mother's voice penetrated his thoughts and he turned to look at her.

"I was just asking Hermione how long you'd known one and other," she informed him, a gleam in her eyes at his distraction. Draco didn't know that while Narcissa had been chatting with Hermione, she had been surreptitiously watching him gazing contemplatively at the young woman seated diagonally from him.

Turning to his mother, he replied, "Oh we already knew each other at Hogwarts, being in the same year. We lost touch after leaving school, but with my return from America and our working together at Hanwell's…" he trailed off, with a smile directed at Hermione who scowled in return.

"And were you together at Hogwarts?" Narcissa asked casually, helping herself to a slice of cake. Both Draco and Hermione knew the direction of her questioning, not fooled in the least by her nonchalance.

"No," Hermione stated coolly.

"Oh, how wonderful that you met up after Draco's return to Britain, then," Narcissa beamed at them both, easily detecting and deflecting the younger witch's displeasure. There was something here that Draco hadn't told her, but she was a Slytherin, and she had been able to read undercurrents since her youth. Something about the Healer's displeasure and Draco's too many years of singlehood provoked her though, goading her to ask; "So, are we looking forward to any future plans?"

The question hit its target only too well. The icy tone of Hermione's reply, albeit accompanied by a falsely bright smile told Narcissa this more plainly than words.

"Oh it's entirely too soon to think about that yet," the younger woman replied politely, wiping a bit of strawberry sauce from Aurora's chin, "I mean, It's been barely three months since we met again."

Narcissa was amused. She could see why Draco took such an interest in this obvious Gryffindor. Provoking her produced such intriguing responses, and she was able to see the intelligence and passion contained in those caramel eyes. Draco always knew what he wanted, she mused, and he'd always sought the best.

Smiling, she decided to ask another provoking question. "Ah, that may be so, but there's certainly something about a whirlwind romance," she smiled, noting that Hermione's lips had thinned into a grim line. Draco's attention, she noticed, was divided between playing with and teasing Aurora, and keeping and eye on the conversation between herself and Hermione.

"Also," she continued, without missing a beat, "you can't say that you don't know Draco," her smile was accompanied by a twinkle in her eyes, "after all, you knew one and other at Hogwarts, dear. That's more years than most couples have before tying the knot. And since neither one of you are getting any younger, and Aurora, the little darling, would need a father—"

"As I said before, it's far too early to consider such things," came the cool response.

Draco had to bite back a smile at the glare Hermione through at him, if looks alone could kill, he would be well and truly dead as a result of that look.

Narcissa smiled, taking quick note of the nonverbal conversation going on between her son and this volatile young woman.

Deciding she had provoked Hermione enough, she turned her attention to her cake, and went back to observing Draco and Aurora.

Draco knew better than to underestimate his mother; she was undoubtedly putting two and two together, and she was more than obviously pleased with her conclusions. He hid a smile – so far so good.

He watched as Hermione leaned over and wiped Aurora's face clean, and not for the first time, he thought that motherhood certainly suited her. He smiled to himself, imagining Hermione ensconced in Malfoy Manor, bringing up his children – for there would certainly be more, he'd see to that.

Leaning over, Draco wiped the corner of Aurora's mouth where a spot of ice cream Hermione had missed, still lingered. "Are you enjoying that, darling?" he asked her, and received a wide grin in return.

"It's the yummiest ice cweam in the whole wide world!" she replied enthusiastically.

Beside her, Hermione sighed with a genuine smile on her face for once. It seemed that only Aurora had the ability to make this farcical excuse for a family tea bearable. Shaking her head, she whispered to her daughter, "Darling, remember what Dennis told you yesterday?"

"Dennis?" Draco questioned, his acute hearing picking up Hermione's softly spoken words. He leaned forward swiftly almost upsetting the silver sugar bowl, "Who's Dennis?"

"Aurora's speech therapist," Hermione answered coolly.

Draco's agitation at the mention of Dennis had been noticed by Narcissa, but Hermione's answer was wholly unexpected. "Why is Aurora seeing a speech therapist?" Narcissa frowned, perplexed.

"To help improve her speech," Hermione responded absently, wiping Aurora's face with her napkin. "I was hoping she wouldn't need one, but her inability to say the letter 'R' is…"

"Oh that," Narcissa laughed, "It's a common problem in young children, Hermione. I believe it runs in families and clears up by the time they're six. Why Draco had the exact same problem at Aurora's age!" She noticed Draco looked both surprised and inordinately pleased with this revelation. "Lucius worried endlessly over it, but it sorted itself out without intervention from Healers or Draco's tutors," she took a sip of her tea. "No doubt the inability to pronounce 'R' in runs in either your family or in Aurora's father's," she added, innocently.

"The inability to pronounce the letter 'R' has nothing to do with genetics," Hermione bit out with irritation- what did Narcissa know.

Spooning the last of the ice cream into Aurora's mouth before pulling out her wand and muttering a quick cleaning spell to remove the stickiness from her face and fingers, she continued smoothly, "it's something to do with the position of the tongue when saying certain letters. Dennis," she smirked at Draco, "gave Aurora various exercises to do which will help."

"A muggle speech therapist?" Draco sneered, not sure whether it was the fact that it was a muggle speech therapist he dislike or if it was because it was a male muggle speech therapist with the more informal address of 'Dennis' instead of 'Dr. So-and-so' or 'Mr. So-and-so'. Probably the latter.

"Yes. Dennis is very good at what he does, "Hermione smiled sweetly.

'I'll bet he is,' Draco thought darkly. 'Dennis better be old and decrepit, or else.'

"If it were not for the fact that Dennis is a good family friend, it would've be impossible to schedule Aurora to see him. Dennis owes me a favour and we've been friends since primary school," she shrugged with a half smile,.

"But my dear," Narcissa exclaimed missing nothing, "you are a Healer, surely there are charms which will help correct Aurora's speech if it is of such a concern to you?"

"Certainly there are charms," Hermione pursed her lips, "but none foolproof and all quite painful. Besides, for those charms to work, the child needs to be at least seven."

There was a slight pause, and Aurora, with her ice cream finished and uncomfortable in her dress, grew bored and asked, "When can we go, Mummy?"

"Mummy hasn't finished her tea yet," Draco smiled at the child, indicating Hermione's half full cup. "Patience, princess!"

Hermione however, pushed her cup away from her. "It's all right, Aurora," she brushed Aurora's hair back where it had escaped from the ribbon, and pointedly ignored Draco, "I've finished anyway." Smiling at Narcissa, she continued, "It's been lovely meeting you." Yanking Aurora's dress down once more, she added, "But we really should be making a move. We're due at my parent's house, and I haven't even started the weekly Saturday grocery shopping yet."

"Of course," Narcissa smiled, as she dabbed her napkin to her mouth.

The four occupants of the table all stood up and Draco watched as his mother leaned forward to kiss Hermione's cheek. "I hope to see you again and soon," she said, giving her a significant smile, the meaning of which was all too clear. In a lowered voice just for Hermione's ears, she added wickedly, "You and Draco certainly do have a lot in common, and it's such a pleasure to see the way you deal with my son."

Not receiving a response, Narcissa turned to an impatient Aurora, who was hopping from foot to foot. "Well Aurora, it has been a delight meeting you." Once more gazing into the child's eyes, she sighed thoughtfully and asked, "Can I have a kiss goodbye?"

Aurora nodded and stood still as Narcissa engulfed her in a fierce hug, kissing her cheek, her eyes lingering on the small girls face as though trying to memorise it. Finally, she released Aurora but not before Draco saw the look of longing in her eyes. His mother had certainly taken to the child and who wouldn't?

"Your grandmother is certainly a lucky lady, having a little darling like you for a grandchild." She straightened, her eyes bright.

"Oh believe me, Aurora is by no means always an angel," Hermione laughed, unnerved at the emotion in the older woman's face.

"I'll escort you out," Draco drawled, taking Aurora's hand as Narcissa reseated herself at the table, her eyes following them as they made their way down the long room, out into the foyer of the restaurant.

"Thank you for the lovely tea," Hermione emphasised formally, "It was nice meeting your mother."

Not to be outdone by her mother's manner, Aurora adopted a polite carriage similar to her mother's, only to be spoiled by her impish grin and bright laughing grey eyes. "Yeah, thanks for the ice cweam. It was yummy!"

Draco said nothing, charmed by the sweetness of Aurora's manners. He scooped the small girl up, hugging her. "Take care, princess," he kissed his daughter's cheeks. Turning to the woman who stood by, watching their interaction with a slight frown on her countenance, he continued, "I'll come round tomorrow." There was no need to say any more Hermione's glower said it all.

Setting Aurora back on her feet, he touched Hermione's cheek gently with a finger, murmuring, "Thank you." He could tell by her shrug that she knew he was grateful to her for allowing Aurora to meet Narcissa.

Hermione said nothing but quickly grabbing Aurora's hand, she led her from the restaurant without looking back.

Draco sighed when mother and child turned the corner, and went back inside the restaurant. Seating himself once more at their table, he glanced at his mother.

Narcissa felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. She needed answers to her questions but getting information out of Draco was like getting blood out of a stone. Even as a child, it had been hard to get information out of him and now would be nigh on impossible. It was time to employ every bit of Slytherin cunning she knew to worm the truth of that child's paternity from him.

"Hermione's a lovely girl," she gushed, pouring him another cup of tea, "so sensible and so much prettier than the photos in the Journals suggest."

"You'd say that about anyone in whom I showed any interest," Draco commented dryly, adding sugar to his tea.

"I would not!" came the indignant retort, "I would object most strongly if the girl didn't suit you, Draco! Surely you know that all I want is your happiness. Nothing else matters to me beyond that."

He gave his mother a boyish smile. "Yeah, I know."

"But Hermione… Now, she's a lovely young woman; and that child of hers, she's adorable!" she returned to the attack.

Draco nodded in agreement, a tender smile on his face. His girls – how lovely that sounded – were probably even now flooing home.

"Do you know who Aurora's father was?" Narcissa asked boldly, eyeing her son's reaction. "I didn't want to ask Hermione about it – it would seem like prying, and you know that's so uncouth," she sniffed. "But that little darling definitely has breeding."

"According to Hermione, he was a muggle," Draco famed casualness, "He died in the war."

"I see," Narcissa murmured, nodding her head thoughtfully. Picking her words carefully, she continued her interrogation, "Although, I must say I was… astonished to see how much Aurora… that is to say, the dear girl has such pretty features… remarkably Malfoyish features, if I could call them that – her grey eyes, her skin colour, her fingers… she even smiles like you when you were her age! Why, if it weren't for her mother's hair and face shape, I'd think her muggle father was an uncanny muggle version of you," she pointed out, arching an eyebrow.

At this, Draco merely mirrored his mother's raised eyebrow, a slightly mocking smile playing about his mouth, murmuring, "Perhaps he was," as he took a sip of his tea.

"But you know as well as I do that's very unlikely," she said frustrated, her Slytherin cunning deserting her," Hermione wouldn't be so… so cagey, so formal with you if there was a relationship going on between you from before." Putting her teacup into her saucer with a light clink, she sighed, "Draco what's really going on here? I could swear that that child's—"

"Mother dear," he laid a hand on her arm, his tone a warning, "walls have ears." He knew even before this meeting that his mother would recognise Aurora for who she was on sight. Everything was going according to his plan. "Although, I must say, you do have an active imagination," he smirked, neither confirming nor denying his mother's question of Aurora's paternity. Rising, he signalled for the waiter to bring the bill.

Once Draco had settled the bill and returned to her side, Narcissa gave up all pretence and murmured, "Fine, I'm imagining things but I'll say this. I'll leave things in your hands for now, but if you don't marry that young woman soon, I'll want to know why. Malfoys look after their own, and I want to see what is rightfully mine by blood returned to the family fold. Almost five years Draco, five years without a word or hint," she paused and took a deep breath, "and now…" She broke off too choked with emotion to say more.

"I know," he empathised, "Oh Merlin do I know."

Narcissa blinking rapidly to clear the mist from her eyes smiled brightly, "I think I'll have a word with your Aunt about this, see if she can't lean on the girl a bit."

"You do that," Draco grinned, this was turning out even better than he had hoped, "shall we go?"

Neither spoke as they prepared to depart, but both looked well pleased with the events of the afternoon.

"She's really perfect, isn't she?" Narcissa smiled as they walked out of the restaurant on to the main street of Hogsmeade, her mind on the future.

"That she is," Draco agreed, not sure to which 'she' Narcissa was referring but it didn't matter; both were perfect in his eyes. A satisfied smile on his lips, he offered his mother an arm and escorted her to the Apparation point to return home to Malfoy Manor.


	10. Chapter 9

Authors Note: Right it's finally here, I could list a whole host of excuses for the lateness of this chapter but won't bore you. Instead I apologise for the rediculously long delay and hope this chapter comes up to expectation. Thanks to my beta for correcting my grammar and so on, and to those of you who have reviewed.

Chapter Nine

The silence in the office was absolute. Not even the distant sound of traffic rumbling down the road disturbed the tense atmosphere in the spacious room. Trying not to fidget, Hermione glanced at Peter Briggs's shocked profile out of the corner of her eye.

Finally, what felt like ages later but was no more than thirty seconds, the solicitor said in a dazed voice, "I see. I hadn't realised that the father of your child was such a prominent figure within wizarding society. This does indeed cast a different light on the matter altogether." He ran distracted fingers through his hair as he spoke.

"I don't see why." Hermione replied irritably, "As far as I'm concerned, I want him out of our lives preferably as soon as possible." She sat straighter in her chair, eyes fixed on the face of the man seated opposite her.

"Hermione, it isn't as straight forward and clear cut as all that," he explained gently having regained his composure. "Draco Malfoy's a very influential person and someone who, if it suited him, could make your life not to mention that of your daughter, extremely difficult. I hadn't realised that the wizard in question was such a high profile individual." He paused and then hesitantly asked, "I don't mean to offend or anything but you're sure that your daughter is his chi…"

"Of course I'm sure," she snapped, not bothering to keep her irritation in check, "I'm a healer in case you'd forgotten. If by any chance I was in doubt of my child's paternity -- which I'm not -- determining it is not difficult." She glowered at him, affronted at his question. What did the man think she was?

"Hermione, I didn't mean to cause offence by my question, but it had to be asked." He looked apologetic but continued, "As you can imagine, there are plenty of opportunists out there who claim that the father of their child is a high-ranking wizard in order to gain money and notoriety. I was simply covering a formality by asking, nothing else," he defended himself.

Resisting the temptation to roll her eyes in exasperation, Hermione took several deep breaths before speaking. "Well, I'm not after the git's money -- or anything else for that matter. All I want is for him to leave us alone and let us get on with our lives. Is that really too much to ask?"

"Under normal circumstances, no, but the situation you've described is far from that."

"I haven't told you all of it," she said, deciding to get the worst over with, and swiftly she told him of the happenings of the last week. "…so you see he's already trying to manipulate the situation by bring in his mother into the equation," she finished bitterly.

Peter didn't respond straight away, staring into the mid distance. There was a far away look on his face. Finally, he asked, "Do you have a photograph of your daughter?"

Blinking with surprise at this unexpected turn in the conversation, she handed him the photo of Aurora that she always kept in her wallet, watching with interest as he studied the child's features closely.

"She's certainly a pretty child," he mused thoughtfully. Then raising his wand, he Accioed the mornings addition of the Daily Prophet to him from where it had been lying on a side table. Rifling through it he found what he was looking for and folded the paper back to reveal a picture of Draco standing beside a podium on which was erected the latest Nimbus broomstick. Clearly this was some kind of advertising campaign in which Draco was taking part. On seeing Hermione, the Draco in the picture smiled and waved.

Peter studied the picture closely, comparing it to the photograph of Aurora he still held. At length, he turned to Hermione, a resigned expression on his face. "I'm not sure what I was hoping for, but the similarities are pretty obvious even to me, an impartial outsider. The big give away is the eye colour; all the Malfoys have had Grey eyes for as long as anyone can remember. Oh, what is it called, their Trait line?

"You mean their Line Trait," Hermione corrected automatically. "But I didn't think the Malfoys had one. I know the Weasleys do, it's their hair colour, for the Bones' it's the shape of the nose, the Forcettes the way their feet turn slightly outwards when they walk –most old families have something, but as far as I'm aware the Malfoys don't have a particular characteristic that defines all family members."

"Yes, they do, all the old families have something to denote all members related by blood. I believe it dates back from the time of Merlin himself. A safeguard, if you like, to ensure recognition of family members. The Malfoys have all had grey eyes for as long as anyone can remember."

Hermione frowned in thought, why had she never thought of this before? Then she reasoned that she had never studied Lucius Malfoy closely enough to notice the colour of his eyes. All she remembered of the man was his pointed face and blond hair, and as Aurora had not inherited either his face shape or hair colouring, she had not given the matter any more thought. True, she had worried at the time of Aurora's birth about the child's eye colour and its similarity to her fathers, but had put the matter down to genetics and dismissed it from her mind. It must have been the thing that had raised Draco's suspicions about the child's paternity. Damn the man to hell!

"I never studied Lucius Malfoy close enough to notice his eye colour," she mused thoughtfully.

"I met Lucius on a few occasions, and his eyes were the exact same shade of grey as your daughters. Even without the eyes, Draco and the child have similar facial bone structures and skin tone." Peter reverted back to his original train of thought, his eyes once more assessing the faces of the pictures lying before him.

"Unfortunately, yes," she agreed soberly as he handed back the photo of Aurora. It is those similarities that got us into this mess in the first place."

When Peter next spoke, he looked Hermione directly in the eye. "As you're no doubt aware, Draco Malfoy is an extremely powerful citizen, and a court battle between you would not only be messy, but would draw the press like moths to a flame. To put it frankly, your best chance is to settle out of court."

"Excuse me?" Hermione stared at him in shock.

"Think about it, do you really want all that publicity, not to mention the scandal that is bound to blow up? Consider your little girl, its better for her if this is settled out of court away from prying eyes." His voice was calm as he spoke, "Anyway, I wouldn't put it past someone like Draco Malfoy to play dirty and use everything and anything he can to get what he wants, and once he starts using underhand methods, you won't have a chance in Hades." He sighed as he refolded the newspaper, "It's always the same, power and connections talk no matter what the circumstances."

Hermione didn't reply as she replaced the picture of Aurora in her wallet, her mind busy churning over Peter's words. Finally, she looked up and nodded. "I see what you're getting at, but what now?"

"Now, I'll write to Mr Malfoy's solicitors, Paxton and Conroy, and request a meeting in which we can work out the terms of the settlement. There is one thing, though; in all honesty I can't see Malfoy giving in to what we want without some kind of bargaining tool. For that reason, I suggest allowing him to see the child for a certain number of hours a week, all supervised, of course. Otherwise, he's likely to instigate his own court battle and that'll never do."

Hermione felt her shoulders slump in defeat at these words. Ron's comments from the previous evening echoed loudly in her head: 'the only way you'll be able to control the situation is if you offer the ferret something in return for leaving you alone. I dunno, something like seeing Aurora a few hours a week'. At her loud and vehement protests he had shrugged and said sagely, "Better that than an outright battle for custody. I wouldn't put anything past the slimebag, so best to play him at his own game. This way if he takes it to court, it'll show you were willing to compromise from the outset and make him look like the prat he is.' They had argued for the next two hours and Hermione's mood had not been improved by Harry who had agreed with Ron's viewpoint when she had called him on the floo for support.

How had it come to this? She thought bitterly as she listened to the solicitor outlining his plans. The justice system was supposed to put everyone on a level playing field no matter how much money or influence they had, but as she was only too aware, this was rarely the case.

"It doesn't look as though I have much of a choice does it?" she muttered, once he had finished speaking, railing inwardly at the injustice of it all.

"It's best this way," the solicitor said compassionately, "better to give an inch, than be forced to part with a mile."

They spent the next hour discussing the exact terms of the agreement they would offer Draco Malfoy when both parties met. Hermione could feel a knot of tension in her stomach and prayed that this ploy would work.

"I think that's everything," Peter smiled across at Hermione. "I'll draw up the necessary paperwork and will be in touch when Malfoy's solicitors get back to me."

"Thanks," Hermione said quietly, standing up and gathering her things together, "I just hope this approach works."

"It's worth a try." He wished he could do more for this young woman who looked as though the cares of the world rested on her shoulders, but he had practiced law for far too long to be more than semi-hopeful that things would work out as she wanted them to. By the sounds of it, Draco Malfoy was bent on claiming the child as his own and if that meant marrying Hermione in order to obtain her, then so be it.

XoXoXoXo

"I'm uneasy," Peter said as the flames licked his ears. I sent the letter off a few days ago and haven't heard a word since."

"Maybe they didn't get it," Hermione suggested from her crouched position before the fireplace of her office, "I mean if they had, you would have heard something by now, surely?"

"Oh, they got it ok," he answered grimly; "I charmed my own copy of the letter to turn green when they opened their copy. It turned green in a matter of minutes of my owl delivering it to them. This is most unlike them. If Paxton and Conroy are anything, it is efficient. Is Draco Malfoy in the country at the moment?"

"As far as I'm aware. I'm not sure as I've only just returned to work after a few days away." She fiddled absently with a loose thread on her cuff as she spoke.

"Well, I'll let you know as soon as I hear back from them," the solicitor promised, still looking perplexed.

"Thanks," Hermione stood up. There was a faint pop and Peter's head disappeared from the fire, which flickered briefly and then died.

She sighed as she returned to her desk and the mounting of paperwork that awaited her attention. Peter was right; this silence was unnerving. She had expected that Draco would storm round to see her the moment he got the letter, but there had been nothing. Reaching for a quill, she wondered if she and Peter were reading too much into the situation and that maybe he was out of the country. It would certainly explain his lack of reaction.

As she sorted through the piles of parchment on her desk, she thought back to the past few days which she and Aurora had spent at Harry and Ginny's new home in the Yorkshire dales. The two had very recently bought the house, deciding to rent out their newly decorated flat. It had been a very enjoyable break, but most of all, it had been free of Draco Malfoy or anyone associated with him. Reluctantly, she turned her attention to her workload, putting to the back of her mind her niggling worries about his continued silence.

The rest of Hermione's day passed swiftly, full as it was of her teaching rounds, and two clinics. By the time 6:00 rolled round, she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep. What was worse, she could feel the start of a headache coming on, and hoped it wouldn't turn into a full fledged migraine.

"Phew, that was one long clinic," Alice Cartlidge, one of the other healers sighed, "It must have been even more tiring for you, Hermione, seeing as you've been away."

"You're telling me," Hermione agreed, standing up and stretching, "I think my body's forgotten the meaning of rest."

"It's always like that when you've been away for a few days," Alice sympathised. "The body takes a while to adjust to the pace of things. I'll finish up here if you like."

"Thanks," Hermione smiled at her before leaving the consulting room with a sigh of relief. Her body ached with tiredness and she was more than ready to leave for the day.

Twenty minutes later, she made her way down the broad corridor from her department, relieved to be going home at last. She would pick Aurora up from Molly Weasley's and then head home. She wondered how Aurora's first day at Kingswood Primary hat been, and felt a pang of regret that she hadn't been able to pick her up from school on such an important day.

She acknowledged to herself that the move had been necessary even though it was near the end of the school year. Andromeda Tonks's nursery was somewhere Draco had unlimited access to Aurora, and that was something Hermione could not allow. The man was a snake who used any means possible to get what he wanted and direct access to Aurora was something which would spell trouble if allowed to continue. He didn't know of the location of Aurora's new school, and Hermione intended to keep it that way. Anyway, she reasoned, it was time Aurora started school, and Kingswood Primary was known for its excellence.

Pushing open the heavy front doors of the hospital, Hermione stepped out into the warm evening air. She could hear birdsong in the trees around her as she made her way down the drive to the Apparation point to one side of the curved drive. Stepping off the path, she crunched her way over the grass to the side of a gnarled old tree which marked the apparition point. Coming to a stop, she prepared to disapparate when something seized her from behind.

For a split second Hermione thought she was imagining things, but the vice like grip of whatever was holding her soon put pay to this idea. A moment later, she knew she had disapparated but couldn't for the life of her work out how and to where. As her feet found solid ground once more, she felt fear rise in her and forced her body round to face whatever was holding her. Then she felt her knees almost give way as she was released. She staggered backwards and when she had regained her balance, stared at the man standing before her, eyes glittering with fury.

Draco Malfoy tossed aside the invisibility cloak he had been wearing and stalked towards her, menace in every movement.

"Surprised to see me?" he sneered in a low voice. "Had you hoped I'd fallen off the face of the earth?"

"No…no, I…I, of course not," Hermione stammered as her bemused mind tried to process what had happened.

"That's good," he drawled, "for we've a long evening ahead of us, and it won't do to tire of one another's company already, will it?"

"Draco, I don't know what you're playing at, whatever it is, I refuse to be a part of it," she gabbled, her mind still grappling with the events of the last few seconds. She hoped she didn't sound as nervous as she was feeling.

He laughed a hard cruel laugh which made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Well my dear Hermione, right now you've no other choice open to you so I suggest that you do as asked."

"And if I don't?" she found herself challenging.

He shrugged, and said in a voice barely above a whisper, "You will, oh by Merlin, you will! Take a seat."

For the first time since arriving in this unknown destination, Hermione glanced round her. They were standing in a large room lined with bookshelves. The evening sun glinted in through French windows while a mahogany desk stood to one side. Above the desk hung an old tapestry worked in gold and silver thread, which she saw at a glance was a sprawling family tree, similar to that which had once hung in the drawing room of 12 Grimauld Place.

"Where are we?" she asked trying not to show the slight apprehension she was feeling.

"Malfoy Manor," came the terse response, "I repeat, please have a seat."

There was a note of underlying steel in these words and Hermione decided it was probably best not to antagonise him any more than was necessary. She walked across to the leather sofa he was indicating, perching warily on the edge, eyes watching his every movement.

"Good, now that wasn't too painful, was it?" he asked silkily, picking up a sheath of parchment and to her disquiet, seating himself in the armchair opposite her.

"Look, I'm a busy woman, so if you could please tell me what you want…" She fell silent at the sneer playing about his mouth.

"Oh, not so busy you couldn't spare time to pay a few visits to a solicitor," he laughed again, "Reading this letter, I'd say you had plenty of time on your hands. It's certainly well written, and the research that must have gone into it!" He raised finely arched brows in mockery as he skimmed through the sheath of parchment in his hand.

Hermione took a deep breath and swallowed nervously. She realised now that Peter and she had been right to worry about Draco's lack of response after receiving Peter's letter. She knew instinctively that if she was going to come out of this confrontation in one piece, she would have to remain calm. To judge from his behaviour so far, Draco's fury had cooled into something far more dangerous than mere anger.

"Well? Have you nothing to say for yourself?" he challenged, throwing the letter onto the desk beside him with a careless flick of the wrist.

"I've plenty to say," she countered quietly, "but I doubt that you'll want to hear any of it, so I see no point in trying to reason with you."

"That, my dear, is where you are wrong. You are not leaving this house until you and I have sorted a few things out. We'll start by you explaining to me the exact reasons why you felt the need to involve a solicitor in our private affairs."

Hermione could feel her own temper start to simmer at the condescending note in his voice.

"It's all in there," she jabbed a finger at the parchment Draco had thrown onto the desk a few moments earlier, "If you'd care to read it, you'll find all the answers to your questions in it."

"That, as we both know, is a load of rubbish. Trumped up nonsense by a solicitor who has nothing better to do with his time than wangle money from people who can barely keep up with their day to day expenses, let alone pay the exorbitant fees he demands," he shot back.

This was too much, on top of the sneers and condescension; he was now denigrating her finances. Hermione clenched her hands into fists to keep her temper in check; nothing would be achieved if she lost her cool.

In a tightly controlled voice, she bit out, "For your information, the reasons listed in that letter are perfectly true. I don't want my daughter to have contact with the likes of you; not to put too fine a point on it, I don't trust you, never have done and never will do."

To her disquiet, he simply smiled in response. "Nice to know where I stand; keep going."

Slightly wrong footed by his calm facade, she went on, "As I was saying, I don't trust you, I don't want you anywhere near my child, and if it takes a court battle to get that through your skull, then so be it."

His expression did not change as he sat watching her; on the contrary, a smile Hermione did not like was playing about his mouth.

"I see," he drawled, "would you care to enlighten me of the reasons you don't trust me?"

"I don't think it's necessary."

"On the contrary, it's very necessary, in fact so necessary, that you aren't leaving here until you've explained your reasons to me and if that takes all night then so be it. I'm in no hurry." He sat back, eyes glittering.

"You may not be in a hurry, but I am," she snapped back, "some of us have commitments you know, but then in retrospect, I doubt you've ever heard of the word 'commitment.' I know your sort don't place much emphasis on such paltry values." She knew it was childish to antagonise him like this but she couldn't help it.

"Your reasons please," he replied in an unflappable drawl, crossing one denim clad leg over the other.

Hunching her shoulders, Hermione knew the time had come to show him what she was made of, to prove to him that she was no walk over and that she had no qualms in a court battle if it meant that he would leave her and Aurora in peace.

Taking a deep fortifying breath she said, "I don't trust someone who had to resort to rape to get me into bed and who then fled to America because he was afraid of the consequences of his cowardly actions."

Her words, rather than igniting the anger that lay beneath the surface beneath his carefully constructed calm, merely resulted in a shrug of his shoulders. His eyes however, held a thoughtful expression as he surveyed her pale face. Then getting up, he moved to a book case located to one side of the room and from the top shelf, lifted down a shallow bowl with runes round the edges. Placing the tip of his wand to his temple he frowned for a moment in concentration and then drew the wand away. Hermione could see a silvery strand of thought clinging to the wand tip. This he deposited in the dish before turning to her.

"I presume you've used a Pensieve before?" he asked.

"Of course I have."

"Right, come on then. It's time you saw for yourself exactly what happened that night."

"What? You want me to enter into your thoughts? No way. Anyway, I've seen it all before, Harry let me borrow his Pensieve a few years ago so I could see exactly what happened." Hermione swallowed nervously, refusing to let her mind dwell on what she'd witnessed in the Pensieve and the confusion she had felt afterwards.

"Did he now?" Draco smiled mirthlessly, "how very interesting. Ah well, another reminder won't do you any harm. Actually, by the look of you, it may do you some good. There are things that you clearly didn't see in your memory of that night which you need to be aware of. I don't want any more misunderstandings about this. Come."

"I don't see the point; I've already witnessed what happened that night, so if you don't mind…"

"Scared, Hermione? Scared that what I'm about to show you will shatter all your carefully built up hatred and elusions about me? You know, I never considered you as the cowardly type. I guess we live and learn." His lips twitched in a half smile.

Hermione frowned in thought; what was it that he wanted her to see? She remembered only too well what had happened when she had watched the events of that night in Harry's Pensieve and doubted there was anything that Draco could show her that would excuse his behaviour. Still… She felt a niggling doubt start to eat at her. Maybe it would be better to do as he asked. If nothing else, it would put this matter to rest for once and for all and prove him to be the conniving cheat he was.

"Fine then, but I warn you, this had better be worth it."

"Oh, it will be, I assure you," he replied softly.

Standing up, she moved across the room to the desk and looked at the silvery substance in the Pensieve.

"Ready?" asked a smirking Draco from beside her. At her nod, he counted down, "Three, two, one!"

Leaning forward both touched a finger to the silvery contents of the Pensieve and Hermione felt the world around her shift. She was pitched forward face first into the bowl and for a few seconds there was nothing more than blackness. In a moment, however, her feet found solid earth once more and she opened her eyes.

Blinking slightly in the bright light, she glanced round her, recognising her surroundings instantly. She was standing in the great hall among Dumbledore's guests on the night of his retirement party. A touch on her arm made her turn her head to see Draco standing beside her.

"This way," he said into her ear and led her through the crowd surrounding Dumbledore. Soon she could see herself, Ron and Harry standing with a couple of other ex-students chatting happily. Draco, however, lead her round the laughing group to where a figure was standing slightly apart talking to the greasy haired Professor Snape.

The Draco of five years ago was nodding politely but not really listening to the potions master, his mind clearly somewhere else. His eyes were fixed on a brown haired witch not too far away. Almost in slow motion, the Hermione of five years ago placed the glass she was holding on to a side table so she could greet another friend. Hermione felt herself tense in readiness for what was about to happen next. The pressure of Draco's fingers on her arm increased, and she realised with a jolt that he was almost as nervous a she.

As quick as a flash, the Draco in the memory moved over to the side table on which seconds earlier, Hermione had placed her glass, the present Hermione and Draco following in his wake. In a moment, the two were standing right behind him, and Draco, taking Hermione's chin, turned her head so she had a clear view over his past self's shoulder. Realising that she had not seen events from this angle before, she leaned forward as the Draco in the memory drew a small bottle from his pocket and breaking the seal with a muttered oath, proceeded to pour a few drops of its contents into Hermione's almost full glass of wine, while pretending to choose a glass of wine from the laden table.

"Look at the bottle," The present Draco hissed into her ear.

Hermione looked more closely at the small bottle and almost did a double take. There, nestling in the palm of the Draco from five years ago was…no it couldn't be. She gave herself a good pinch, before focusing once more on the bottle in the blond's hand which he was now recorking, while helping himself to a glass of red wine with the other hand.

"It can't be," she gasped out, turning to stare at the man standing beside her, "it just can't be. I mean I would've known…I would've realised….I…"

"You had drunk rather a lot that night, remember?" Draco returned with a shrug, "I presume you've seen the rest of what happened that night?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go."

She felt herself rising into the air and a moment later, found herself back in the present, standing in Draco's study staring down into the Pensieve, the contents of which winked up at her in the evening light.

Staggering over to the desk chair, she sank into it, her mind whirling.

"It can't be," she repeated again, "you must have changed that memory in some way to make it look as though…."

"In that case, let's go into your memory of that night shall we?" he shot back, as he touched his wand to the contents of the pensive and transferred the memory back into his head, "Anticlimactic I know, but yes, all I used on you that night was the standard Marshall calming draft, not the elicit date rape potion you imagined. Sorry to disappoint!"

"No," she denied again faintly, "I don't believe it, this just can't be."

"Well, it is, so get used to it." Draco's voice was hard and flat and laced with bitterness.

Getting up, Hermione walked across to the windows, her mind and brain numb. She stared out unseeing on to the neatly laid out gardens before her, trying to come to terms with what she had just witnessed. A calming draft, a simple Marshall calming draft. That was all he had used. Even if she hadn't seen the label on the side, she would have recognised that bright red bottle anywhere; it was the Marshall Trade mark. It was a widely used potion and available at any apothecary. She even had a few vials of the stuff in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom at home, and occasionally used it to help her relax after a long day at work. She swallowed, feeling as though she'd had the wind knocked out of her by an enthusiastic bludger. She had seen Draco break the seal on the bottle before tipping two drops into her wine glass, and knew for a fact that once broken, the bottles could not be resealed. This ruled out the possibility that he had tampered with the potion in some way, which could only mean that…

"Hermione, are you ok?" Draco's voice broke into her jumbled thoughts and she started.

"Fine," she answered in a wooden voice, slowly turning to face him.

"I'm sorry to have sprung it on you like this, but I'd honestly thought you knew. It was only when I read the letter from your solicitor that I realised you were under the impression I had," he grimaced, "Well…that I'd administered an illegal potion so I could…have my way with you."

Seating herself on the leather sofa beside her, Hermione stared back at him from glazed eyes. "I don't remember any of what happened that night," she revealed, "all I knew afterwards was that you had…that we had…."

"Slept together?" he shrugged. "So naturally you jumped to the only plausible conclusion," he completed her train of thought, "that I had deliberately given you a potion to knock you out and then raped you. Did it never occur to you that the amount of alcohol you had consumed was the reason for your memory lapse?" At her head shake he went on, "I thought not. No, I had to be the one who got the blame for it and why? Because I'm evil incarnate, I'm a big bad ex-Slytherin whose sole aim in life is to drug women and rape them…"

"No," she interrupted, "no, I just assumed…"

"That's just it, Hermione, you assumed. You had no concrete evidence so you assumed the worst as always." He sighed deeply and then in a quieter voice continued, "It doesn't matter now anyway. All that matters is that you and I marry so that Aurora can claim her birthright and have what all children deserve, loving parents and a secure environment in which to grow up."

Hermione's mind was still busy grappling with the implications of Draco's recent revelation and in a last ditch attempt to prove her case, she asked, "So why did you run off to America the morning after the party? Only someone who has something to hide runs away as you did."

He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose in a weary gesture, "I didn't run away. I went to America on Dumbledore's orders, he needed an Order member to keep track of Voldemort's movements in America and when Angelina Johnson pulled out at the last minute, Dumbledore asked me to go instead."

"Why? I didn't know you were in the Order."

"Well, sorry for not informing you earlier," he replied dryly. "Anyway, I was the one who raise least suspicion as everyone knows I have business interests out there."

"That was convenient!" she shot back, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Actually it wasn't convenient in the least. You try being asked to pack up and go to another country with literally a few hours notice and see how you like it. If you don't believe me, ask Dumbledore. Maybe he'll have better luck in convincing you than I did."

"Angelina's father was taken ill at the time," Hermione remembered, ignoring his last remark. "So why didn't you return from America when the war finished?" she continued relentlessly.

"I'd already been out there for over two years and in that time, had built a life for myself, plus mother was happy there, what was there to come back to? But Hermione, if I'd known about Aurora…if you had contacted me when you were pregnant, I would have dropped everything and come back regardless of what anyone said."

Hermione had no answer to that so said nothing.

Draco then went on, "Anyway, we're veering from the subject at hand. None of that matters any more. What matters now is Aurora, and Hermione; I'll be damned before I walk out of my daughter's life. As I said to you before, marriage between us is the only viable option."

Hermione blinked at the change in topic and shook her head which had started to ache, making thought impossible. "Look, I need to come to terms with all this," she waved a hand at the Pensieve still sitting on the desk, "I need to…well, get used to it and…"

"You mean you need to try and disprove what I've shown you," he challenged, eyebrows raised in mockery. "You want to see if you can pick holes in my version of events. Well go ahead and try."

"No, it's not that," she denied. "It's just that I need time to get used to all this. Once I've sorted things out in my own mind, then maybe we can come to some formal arrangement regarding the amount of time you can spend with…"

The sound of Draco smacking his hand on to the desk halted her and she stared at him wide eyed.

"You don't get it, do you, Hermione? I will never be content with simply spending a few hours a week with my daughter, I want to acknowledge her to the world as mine, to play a key part in her life as her father and not one of her 'uncles'."

Hermione could feel the headache start to increase in severity , a tight band of pressure pressing inwards making thought almost impossible, and knew that if she didn't get away soon, she would do or say something she would later regret. She was desperately tired and needed time to digest and examine the revelations of the evening. She also needed to borrow Harry's Pensieve again and, using her own memory, go over in minute detail what had happened that night. It was possible, however remotely, that Draco had tampered with that memory. Luckily for her, her own memory of that night was still in Harry's Pensieve from two years ago. He had stopped using it after Voldemort's demise and neither of them had thought to remove her memories from it.

"I'm tired and think it best we postpone this conversation until another day," she got to her feet, "I'm sorry about this, but there's no point in discussing this further when we're both so overwrought, it won't get us anywhere."

He snorted, "No, I think we should get things clear here and now. It's quite simple really, you tell this Peter Briggs fellow to sod off and that'll be that. We don't need some inquisitive lawyer poking his nose into things that aren't his concern. Besides, the reasoning in that letter is untrue as you now know, so it's worthless anyway. Then we can put this unpleasantness behind us and move on. Soon, you and I will announce our engagement in the Daily Prophet, and once we're married, we can begin life as a family."

The room had started to revolve slowly around Hermione, she gripped the arm of the sofa beside her to keep herself from falling. The pain in her temples was steadily increasing and it felt as though a sledge hammer was being pounded repeatedly against the inside of her skull, making her close her eyes with the pain. One of her rare but virulent migraines was coming on fast and she knew that if she didn't take the potion that controlled it soon, the pain would become too much.

"Right," she mumbled, not having registered his words, "now I must go."

"You look tired, here let me help you." Draco slid an arm round her as she made to move towards the fireplace, "I'm sorry for bombarding you like this but you had to know, Hermione."

"Hmm."

"Don't worry about anything; I'll take care of it all, ok?"

A particularly sharp blow of the hammer in her head made her wince and she mumbled, "Ok, whatever."

Reaching the fireplace, she grabbed a fist of Floo powder from the jar on the mantel piece, and dropped it onto the neatly piled logs, watching as they instantly burst into flame.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Draco asked, watching her with concern.

"No, I'll be fine," she replied faintly. Then stepping into the flames, she called "The Burrow," and was whisked away in a whoosh of green flame.

XoXoXoXo

Smiling in satisfaction, Hermione placed the last of the neatly labelled potion samples into the rack and sat back. It was done; the first batch of the nerve fixing potion Isabel, James and she had tested three weeks ago was now complete. The samples would be introduced to the International Association of Healers at the annual conference in a few weeks time.

Getting up, she stretched and glanced at her watch. She had been in the lab for the last few hours, putting the final touches to the potion that James and Isabel had spent the last few weeks brewing. Walking across to the large south facing floor to ceiling windows, she looked out on to the grounds of the hospital, glad that the potion had finally been finished. She had agreed to finish cooling and bottling the valuable potion for Isabel who had a particularly heavy outpatient clinic and was unable to finish the potion as planned. She took in the vista of green fields and trees that surrounded the hospital, revelling in the feel of the gentle breeze blowing in through the partially open window.

Her mind as it often did these days, went back to her last encounter with Draco two days ago and the revelations of that evening. She sighed as she thought about the memory of that night almost five and a half years ago. No matter how many times she visited that memory, the results had always been the same; the potion that Draco had added to the drink was always the clear and tasteless Marshall calming draft. She had even got Harry and Ron (much to their discomfort) to visit the memory. She had simply instructed them to look closely when Draco had added the potion to her glass – something that both had agreed to do with enthusiasm.

She doubted she would ever forget the looks on both faces as they had emerged from the memory white and trembling. Like herself they had been unable to believe what they had seen and so had revisited the memory in the hope their eyes had been playing tricks on them. They had even resorted to getting one of the other Aurors who had specialised in memory analysis to look at the memory. He had informed them that it was indeed genuine which ruled out the possibility that Draco had tampered with it, not that this would have been possible, the memory having been stored in Harry's home. Finally all three had been forced to concede that what they had witnessed was indeed the truth; Draco had given Hermione nothing more than a few drops of a widely used and popular calming draft.

A knock on the door made her turn round and she called, "Come in!"

The door was pushed open by a weary Isabel who crossing the spacious lab, sat down in the only arm chair by the unlit fireplace.

"Those outpatient clinics seem to get harder and harder," she breathed, setting down her brief case, "how's the potion going?"

"All done," Hermione replied, waving at the rack of vials sitting on the spacious lab table in the middle of the room, "it's ready to be introduced to the IAOH. I'm sure it'll be a success."

"I sincerely hope so," the other woman responded, "Merlin knows we've spent enough time developing and testing it. By the way, congratulations."

"Err thanks," Hermione frowned bemusedly, "but it wasn't all that difficult you know and didn't take too long."

"Really?" The other woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I would have thought it wouldn't be exactly easy. Things being the way they were before."

"Oh, no, it didn't take much of my time. I think the key is having a light hand. Admittedly, it takes a lot of concentration, but the end result was definitely worth it." Hermione shrugged as she began to clean up the apparatus she had used.

"I'll bet it was," Isabel shot Hermione a sardonic smile, "You are a dark horse, though; fancy not even giving us a hint."

"There was nothing to tell," a puzzled Hermione replied as she gathered and sorted her notes, "it's just one of those things, you either can do it, or you can't, I don't think its something that can be learned."

"Hmmm, perhaps not. I wouldn't mind having some of that know how," Isabel smiled, "It would have made my younger days much less fraught with anxiety I can tell you. Ah well, that's life I suppose."

"Oh, but Isabel, you do know how, you're certainly better than me at such long winded projects. I can do it but don't have the patience required for such finicky processes."

"Excuse me? Who says I am better than you at such things?"

"Well, no one, I suppose. I just assumed you enjoyed potion brewing-"

"Potion brewing? What are you talking about? I was talking about your engagement." Isabel gave Hermione a worried look as though questioning her sanity.

"What engagement?" It was Hermione's turn to look concerned as she surveyed the other woman. She may not have slept much these last two nights, but that didn't mean she couldn't spot delusion when she saw it.

"Your engagement. You know, the one that was announced in the Daily Prophet this morning."

"What?"

Sighing deeply, Isabel rummaged in her briefcase and pulled out a rumpled copy of that days Daily Prophet. Flicking through it, she folded it back to page nine, and handed it to Hermione.

"This should jog your memory."

Taking the paper, Hermione stared down at the page and saw that it was the weekly list of births, deaths and marriages/engagements that the Prophet still insisted on publishing. Scanning the columns she let out a gasp as Isabel's meaning became clear. There, at the top of the Marriages/engagement column was the announcement, 'Engagement of Draco Andreus Malfoy to Hermione Jane Granger; wedding date to be announced.'

To make things worse, at the bottom of the page there was an article entitled 'Wizarding Worlds best Known Bachelor Decides to Tie the Knot!'

Sitting down heavily on a lab stool, Hermione, heart sinking, scanned the article:

'Last night, the prophet received news that the world's most popular bachelor has finally decided to settle down.

'Draco Malfoy, aged twenty-five, and the last of the Malfoy line, announced this morning that he was engaged to Ms Hermione Granger, also twenty-five, and that he was going to legally adopt her child from a previous marriage as his own.

'Ms Granger, a well-known Hanwell's Healer who was instrumental in bringing down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and close friend of Harry potter himself, was unavailable for comment. However, the news has been received with delight by members of Draco's family. His mother, Narcissa Black Fitz-Gerald, commented "I am absolutely delighted by this wonderful news. Hermione is a lovely girl and she and my son are eminently suited. I look forward to welcoming both her and her enchanting little girl into the family."

'The Prophet has as yet no details of Ms Granger's child, but we are endeavouring to rectify this and will keep you informed.'

Hermione laid down the paper with a shaking hand, shock draining her face of colour.

She couldn't believe this, how could Draco do this and expect to get away with it? Then her mind went back to a few days ago and she winced; what had she agreed to while she had been suffering from that dratted migraine? She resisted the urge to scream in frustration.

"Are you ok?" a concerned Isabel enquired, getting up and coming to stand beside her, "You look shocked."

"I need to find…That is, I have to talk to…I…" Hermione began but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Enter," Isabel called, and the door was pushed open by one of the hospital receptionists.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Healer," she addressed Hermione, "but there's a lady downstairs who insists on seeing you. I explained you were busy but she said it was urgent. She had a little girl with her."

"It isn't a reporter, is it?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Oh, no," the receptionist smiled, "A few reporters tried to get in this morning, but Sir Pinfold threatened to bring charges against the Daily Prophet for disturbance of the peace, as this is a hospital, if any more of them were spotted lurking around. That got rid of them ok."

Both Hermione and Isabel smiled.

"Right, I'll come down then." Hermione said, gathering her things together with not quite steady hands.

"The lady's waiting in the South Waiting Room." The receptionist told her as she turned and departed.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Isabel asked in a rare show of concern, "You know, just in case."

"Thanks," Hermione forced a smile, "but I'm sure I'll be fine."

"If you're sure." Isabel nodded as she shut the door of the lab after them and warding it before walking away.

As she made her way down the corridor, Hermione's mind churned incoherently. She couldn't think who would seek her out at this time of the day; maybe Ginny?

Soon she had arrived at the South Waiting Room and, taking a deep breath, pushed open the door.

"Hermione, there you are!" Molly Weasley greeted in relief, getting to her feet, "When I read the paper I thought it best to pick madam here up from school and bring her here." She jerked her head at the small figure standing behind her, busily rifling through a children's magazine. "I wouldn't put anything past those Daily Prophet reporters and thought it best to get her out of harms way. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you." A slightly hurt look crossed her face as she finished speaking.

"Mummy, do you work here?" Aurora asked, dropping the magazine and winding her arms around her mothers waist.

Hermione didn't answer at once, instead kneeling down and hugging her daughter fiercely.

"Yes, darling." Standing up she addressed Molly, "Thanks for picking Aurora up from school. Shall we go to my office? We won't be interrupted in there."

She led the way out of the room, Aurora scampering along beside her, down various corridors and up stair cases until they reached her office.

"This place is like a labyrinth," Molly commented, following Hermione into her office.

"Oh, you soon learn your way round." Shutting the door she ushered the older woman into a chair and, seating herself, drew Aurora on to her lap.

"So," Molly began, "you're getting married?"

Hermione didn't answer as she ran distracted fingers through Aurora's curls. "I don't know…That is…I…Oh, Molly, its all such a mess!" she finally burst out, lifting her gaze to meet that of the older woman.

Molly studied the nervous young woman before her, and then said, "Why don't you tell me everything? Start at the beginning and don't leave anything out. I always find it's best that way."

Hermione nodded as she handed Aurora a blank piece of parchment and a pen, watching as the child settled herself at her desk and began to draw. Then taking a deep breath, she began to explain the whole sorry tale, from the night of Dumbledore's retirement to the morning's newspaper announcement.

She talked for a good ten minutes in which the older woman simply sat and listened, not interrupting.

Finally, when Hermione had talked herself into silence, she spoke. "Wow, that is one complex mess. You know, to be honest, I had always suspected that," she shot a significant look at Aurora, "Well, that she was his. As you say, the eyes are the big give away. Everyone born of that family has grey eyes. No, I'm not surprised in the least. What does surprise me is that he wants to do the honourable thing and marry you. Mind you, he was part of the Order so can't be all bad."

"I know, but that still doesn't make it right," Hermione protested, "I don't love him, and I'm sure he doesn't love me. The only reason he's willing to marry me is so that he can acknowledge Aurora as his."

"I can see that it's very difficult for you," the older woman empathised, "but Hermione, sacrifices do have to be made in life. You both love your child and would do anything for her. Surely that counts for something?"

"What so you're saying I should do as he asks and marry the git? Are you mad?"

Mrs Weasley sighed deeply. "Hermione, I'm much older than you are and have seen life for what it is. I've lived through two wars and watched my own brothers die at the hands of Death Eaters. I've also lived in Wizarding society all my life and know full well the rules and stipulations by which it is governed. All I'm saying is think; take a step back and think of your child and not of yourself. Think about her future, and how you being single will effect her as she grows up. She's already being discriminated against at nursery school because of it, imagine what it'll be like when she reaches Hogwarts. Let's say for an instant she ends up in Slytherin which is perfectly possible. Do you really think they'd let her forget about her parentage? People, most especially children, are cruel, and it's only the fittest who learn to swim with the tide. Your child will need every advantage she can get and by refusing to marry, you're depriving her of a father -- not to mention security."

"Draco Malfoy isn't all bad. He did a lot for the order, even moved to America on Dumbledore's orders. He can't help being a Malfoy just as you can't help being Muggle-born. He's done the honourable thing in proposing marriage to you – most wizards in his situation would have turned tail and run. By marrying him, you'll not only be giving your daughter stability and security, but yourself as well. I know how much you scrimp and save to make ends meet and the toll it's taking on you. Marriage to him will ensure that you never have to worry about finances again."

There was a long silence when she finished speaking, and Hermione began to twist the material of her robes between her fingers.

"I understand where you're coming from," she finally said, "I really do. It's just that I can't trust him. All those years of dislike at school and then what happened at Professor Dumbledore's party, well, it isn't conducive to trust. Oh, I accept that he used a calming draft on me that night rather than the date rape potion as I had thought, but why? Why did he feel the need to use a calming draft on me in the first place? What did he hope to gain from it?"

"No one knows the answers to those questions other than him, so I suggest you ask him and see what he has to say. But these questions aside, think about it, ok? Take it from me, there are much worse things in life than being married to Draco Malfoy. Yes, you aren't in love with the man, but that's something that can grow with time. You won't be the first woman who is marrying for reasons other than love, and certainly won't be the last. I care about you and Aurora as my own, Hermione, and can't stand back and let you throw away this chance of stability and, who knows, maybe happiness as well."

"I know," Hermione answered soberly, resisting the temptation to snort at the thought of being happy with a Malfoy, "I know that but it goes against everything I was raised to believe in. He and I hardly know one and other, let alone anything else."

"That'll come with time. I always say you never know a person until you live with them. Look at Ginny and Harry; they've supposedly known one another for years, but take it from me, she was surprised by some of his traits -- which she only discovered upon moving in with him. Give the matter serious thought. If it helps, do an Arithmantic equation to help you, I always found them useful in helping me to make decisions."

"I suppose," Hermione answered despondently.

"Think of Aurora, Hermione, think of her future." Molly said quietly looking across at the child who was currently engrossed in her drawing and paying them no heed.

"I'm trying," Hermione answered with a break in her voice, "but it's so difficult, all these years I've believed that he raped me, that he….and it turns out he didn't. I'm so confused by it all, and then this. He's determined to get his own way no matter what. Can't you see where I'm coming from?"

"Yes, I can, but I can also see where he's coming from and as hard as it is, the honest part of me actually feels sorry for him. It can't be easy to learn that you have a child you knew nothing of, and when you try to do the right thing by her, you're told to go away. I'm not saying the man's a saint," she snorted, "No, all I'm saying is that he's human. You do realise that he could accuse you of slander, don't you?"

"Yes," Hermione's tone was flat, "Ron, Harry, and I were discussing it last night, but right now I'm beyond caring. This is one big cobweb of confusion and I don't know what to feel any more."

"I can understand that. Look, I can't tell you what to do; I can only advise you based on my own experiences of people and life. At the end of the day it's your decision, but be fair to him. Don't let your past and your teenage grudges get in the way of such an important issue as this. Think of what would be best for Aurora; she's the one open to the most pain here. Now, I've taken up enough of your time already. I'll take Aurora back with me by Floo and you can pick her up from the Burrow this evening ok? It's best if you keep a low profile for a while until the reporters get bored and move on to something else."

Getting up, the older woman prepared to depart, and in a minute Hermione was alone with her thoughts. To say they were a jumbled mess would be an understatement. Standing up, she began to pace round the room, Molly's words ringing in her ears.

How would her being single effect Aurora at Hogwarts? For the first time, she admitted that the child displayed the characteristics looked for in Slytherin. She shuddered to imagine how Aurora would be treated in that house due to her parentage if she, Hermione, remained single. No, she couldn't allow such stigma to dog her daughter throughout her time at secondary school and destroy her confidence, which would have a bearing on the rest of her life.

She remembered only too well the loneliness she herself had suffered in her first two months at Hogwarts when, in a desperate attempt to show everyone she belonged in the wizarding world, she had used every opportunity she could to show off her knowledge. This tactic, rather than impressing the other students, had only served to push them away. She had spent many lowly hours crying in the girls bathrooms and being taunted and made fun of by cruel students, most of whom had been in Gryffindor, due to her lack of friends. Had it not been for her friendship with Harry and Ron, she would not be the confident young woman she was today. She could not allow her own child to go through similar agony. In her case, there would be no Harry or Ron to rescue her and give her back her confidence.

Her mind returned to the questions of the last few days: how bad could marriage to Draco Malfoy really be compared to the misery Aurora was sure to suffer if she remained single? This was the question that had plagued her every thought since she had accepted he had not raped her that night so many years ago. He would certainly provide for both Aurora's and her every need and it would be nice to let someone else take responsibility for financial matters for a change. She would of course have to lay down certain conditions, but she was sure he would agree to them. He wanted Aurora, and if that meant abiding by certain stipulations, then so be it. Anyway, he had once said that they could have single rooms if she so preferred. She would just have to make that crystal clear to him – the marriage would be a marriage by name and nothing else. If he didn't like that then there would be no marriage.

There was also the possibility of divorce to consider. It was true that divorce was rare in the wizarding world, but so what? Once the divorce had taken place, Aurora would still be protected by the Malfoy name, and she and Draco could go their separate ways. Yes, that would probably be the best course of action to take, beneficial for all concerned.

Hermione smiled as she reseated herself. Molly had certainly helped her sort her thoughts out, and although the results of her honesty were not what she would have liked, nothing was as important as ensuring Aurora's security. She knew that she would have to give the matter a lot of thought before coming to any concrete decisions and resolved to get it sorted out as soon as possible. Molly had been right, an arithmantic equation may be just the thing to help her decide what to do; an unbiased prediction based on fact and not emotion. If there had to be a marriage between her and Draco Malfoy, then it would be on her terms.

She smiled grimly as she prepared for her afternoon clinic. It was time she put her feelings aside, and decide for once and for all, the best thing to do. She would not ask any of her friends for their advice on this matter as she knew that their opinions would bias her own judgement, and that was the last thing she needed. No, she had stalled and procrastinated for long enough, it was high time she took control of her life once more, and if marriage to Draco Malfoy on a temporary basis was the only viable option, then she was determined to play him at his own game.


	11. Chapter 10

Authors Note: Thanks to my beta for editing this. I hope it comes up to expectation.

Chapter Ten

"You're nuts!" Harry gasped, staring at Hermione, incredulity written all over his face. "I mean, that'd be like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. No, there's got to be another way. Ron, Ginny, we need to think of a plan and fast. This can't be allowed to happen. It's madness!" Jumping to his feet, he began to pace the living room of his and Ginny's house, raking agitated fingers through his untidy hair.

"Actually, it's the only rational way forward." Ginny replied serenely, turning to face him. "To be honest, I'm surprised you held out this long, Hermione."

"Rational? You call Hermione agreeing to marry that… that…git rational? It's the most irrational thing she could've done!" Harry's eyes were blazing with anger as he spoke.

Ron cleared his throat nervously and said, "To be honest mate, she didn't have much of a choice. It was either that, or he would've made her and Aurora's lives hell. See, it's difficult, society being the way it is."

"Society? Who gives a stuff about society?" Harry retorted, glaring now at Ron.

Hermione bit back a sigh from her position on the window seat of the large bay window. This was going as badly as she had feared it would. The only difference was that instead of Ron blowing up, it was Harry. She supposed this was mainly due to the fact that he had not been brought up in the Wizarding world, and like her, found their petty restrictions and rules worse than ridiculous. But while she had been forced by circumstance to accept them, he was still railing at the injustice of it all.

"Harry, I didn't have a choice-" she began quietly, only to be cut off.

"People always have a choice about such things, Hermione, can't you see that? Of course you had a choice; everyone has a choice in these things. All you had to do was to tell him to go to hell and stay there. Surely that wasn't too difficult?"

At these words, Ginny jumped up from the cushion on which she had been lying, patches of angry colour staining her cheeks. "Okay, know-it-all, let's say for a moment that Hermione had said no and told him to go to hell. What do you think he would've done? Sat back idly and accepted it? Nodded sagely and agreed to leave her and Aurora be? Not even you would be stupid enough to think that he would have agreed to that."

"Well, no, but…" Harry stammered in response, clearly taken aback at his wife's anger.

"I'll tell you what he would've done; he would've used any and every means he could to claim Aurora as his own. Maybe you think that Hermione should just let her go?"

"No, of course not," Harry spluttered, backing away from her glare.

"Ginny, be careful," Hermione warned, watching her friend in concern. "Your blood pressure could do without being raised because of me."

Ginny ignored Hermione's words and glowered at Harry. "Then get your head out of your arse and wake up. Hermione has no choice but to marry him. I trust you're aware that he had threatened to take her to court?"

"Of course," he muttered, not looking at her. "I just thought that…"

"That's just the problem, Harry, you just thought. You didn't look at anything else; you just thought, and, as usual, jumped to conclusions," Hermione said flatly, getting up and walking across to where Ginny still stood, glaring angrily at her husband. Taking her arm, she forced the younger woman down into an armchair before resuming her own seat once more.

"Hermione, I didn't mean to offend you," Harry turned to her, "it's just that marrying him…well, it's just a big step and for what?"

"Security for my daughter, Harry," she replied quietly. "I'm marrying him to ensure that my child is never ostracized in the Wizarding world. Yes, I did have the choice not to marry him, but in taking that choice, I would have risked, first losing her, but if not, alienating her from Wizarding society. Do you honestly think I could do that?"

Harry sighed, the anger drained from him. "I know, but Hermione, marriage is for life. You seem to have forgotten that point. What if you meet someone else? You won't be able to do anything because you'll be married to that git. How will you feel then? Anyway, what kind of marriage will it be? You like Malfoy about as much as Ron and I do; how are you going to tolerate him? That's a high price to pay for Aurora's security."

"If I remember rightly, your mother paid an even higher price to ensure that Voldemort didn't kill you," she answered calmly.

"That was completely different," he argued. "Any normal mother would have done the same in her position."

"I think you'll find that any decent mother would do the same in my position as well."

"Harry, there're some things that you can't fight against no matter how much you try," Ron explained, looking relieved that Harry had regained control of his temper. "Single parents are frowned upon in the Wizarding world, and their kids take the brunt of this prejudice. That's always been the case, and, knowing society always will be. Yes, it's wrong, but it's there, and trying to defy it, is like fighting an incoming tide. It's not Hermione who'll suffer inasmuch as Aurora. As she gets older, people'll hold her parentage against her. Do you really want that?"

Hermione blinked in surprise. She hadn't known that Ron possessed so much common sense.

As though reading her thoughts, Ginny said, "Blimey, Ron, at this rate you'll start acting your age. Then what will we do?"

Ron scowled in response. "Well, it's true," he retorted. "You know that as much as I do. Family and background matter, whatever people say."

"So how do Muggleborns cope then?" Harry asked, with the air of one grasping desperately at straws. "I mean, it's perfectly possible that a Muggleborn with only one parent goes to Hogwarts. How do they cope later in life?"

Hermione watched as Ron and Ginny exchanged uneasy glances, and suppressed a mirthless smile. She had asked Ginny this very question soon after Draco's reappearance in their lives and even now, the answer filled her with bitterness.

"Well," Ginny floundered, "it's different. You see, people from Muggle backgrounds are raised with different values, and Wizarding folk may not know they even come from single-parent families."

"So, basically, it's okay for Muggleborns to come from single parent families as Muggles don't know any better, but the moment they come into the Wizarding world, they have to live by Wizarding rules, is that it?" Harry scowled.

"Don't have a go at me," Ginny defended herself. "I'm only telling you what the general population believes, that's all."

"And you're okay with this Hermione?" Harry turned to her, disbelief written all over his face.

"I've no choice but to accept it," she replied, a bitter tinge creeping into her voice. "After all, I'm now a part of the Wizarding world, and if I want Aurora to be accepted, I have to live by Wizarding rules."

Harry stared unseeingly out of the window facing him. Then he ground out, "It's bloody wrong, that's what it is. After all this time, after what we've all been through because of Voldemort, something as basic as whether your parents were married or not still has the power to make or break you in the Wizarding world. So much for getting rid of prejudice towards Muggles."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

In an effort to change the subject, Ron asked, "Have you set a date for the ceremony, Hermione?"

"No; I only decided to go ahead with it yesterday, and even that was after a long talk with your mother. I'll sit down with Malfoy later on during the week and work out the details."

"What kind of details?" Ginny eyed Hermione with interest as she spoke.

"Oh, just this and that. I've decided to lay down, certain, shall we say, stipulations, and these need to be discussed," Hermione told them in an airy voice.

"You're not going to…I mean, you can't…" Harry's voice tailed off, and he stared at Hermione as though he'd never seen her before. "A marriage in name only? Huh! He'll go ballistic when he finds out."

"Oh no he won't," she replied grimly. "He was the one that suggested it, actually."

"Excuse me?" Ron spluttered.

"You didn't tell me this!" Ginny exclaimed, ignoring Ron. "Why?"

"He wants Aurora, and if that means he and I have separate bedrooms, then he's happy." Hermione shrugged.

Harry and Ron were both sniggering heartily now, wearing identical grins.

"I didn't know you had it in you," Ron laughed. "Hermione, you're becoming as cunning as a Slytherin."

"Needs must, Ron. I'm determined to have some say in this sham of a marriage. If I'm going to go through with it, I may as well do it on my terms."

"Next you'll be telling us that you intend to divorce him after a year or so," Harry smirked.

Hermione didn't answer but stared determinedly out of the window.

"No way, not even you would do that, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, staring at her.

She shrugged in response. "We'll see. Let's put it this way: I haven't ruled it out."

"He'd never allow it," Ginny shook her head. "I can guarantee you that he would do something to prevent that. Divorce in the Wizarding world is practically unheard of; he'd never allow the scandal to sully the Malfoy name." She rolled her eyes and grinned.

"As I said, we'll see. Anyway, who cares about scandal? By that time, Aurora will have his name and that'll be all the security she needs." Hermione didn't look at the other three as she spoke. "At any rate, you're jumping the gun; I haven't even married him yet."

"You're as cunning as they come," Ron told her, grinning broadly. "Malfoy won't know what's hit him."

"Oh, I think he will; he'll be prepared for these things. If Malfoy's anything, he's cunning, and no offence meant, Hermione, but you'll never be able to match cunning like his in a million years."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ginny," Hermione responded dryly.

"How about the press?" Ron frowned. "Have you thought about them, Hermione? I mean, you and Malfoy are both well known in the Wizarding world, so this'll generate a lot of interest."

"Well, neither of us wants too much press attention if we can help it. That's something else I'll have to discuss with him."

"Yeah, well, as long as he doesn't milk it for all it's worth, which, knowing him is perfectly possible," Harry put in.

"I don't think so," Ginny piped up. "He's as eager as Hermione to keep things as low-key as possible to spare Aurora, if for no other reason."

"That's what I think too," Hermione agreed. "Ah well, I daresay I'll find out soon enough."

"I don't want to break things up, but I have to be off," Ron yawned as he got to his feet. "I've an early start tomorrow so I had better head home for a decent night's sleep. Hermione let me know how things go with Malfoy."

She nodded and he carried on, "And you, Ginny, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, okay?"

"You'd think I was five years old by the way you talk, Ron. I'm not made of porcelain, you know."

"Still, you're six months gone now and should be taking things easy," Ron responded stubbornly.

"You sound like mum," Ginny grumbled, getting up. "You'd think I was the only woman in the world who was pregnant."

"Cheer up," Hermione consoled. "At least they're not trying to stop you from Apparating. When I was only four months gone, they started haranguing me to stop Apparating and to use the Floo instead, as if that's any safer."

"Of course it's safer," Harry jumped in. "We've been arguing about this for the last few months, but Ginny won't listen."

Ginny frowned in annoyance. "For the last time, both of you, I'm perfectly safe Apparating thank you very much. Yes, I do have to be more careful, but if St. Mungo's and Hermione are okay with it, then who are you to disagree?"

Both Harry and Ron opened their mouths to retort, but Hermione beat them to it. "Look you two, it's perfectly safe. No harm will come to the baby if she Apparates. In fact, I'd say that Apparating is safer than using either the Floo, or a broom."

"Women," snapped Ron. "What do they know?"

"A lot more than you." Ginny glowered at him. "Now, unless you want to be on the end of my Bat-Bogey Hex, I suggest you get moving."

"Okay, okay, I'm going," he said, scooping up his wand from the coffee table and pocketing it. "See you all later." With that, he strode across to the fire, grabbed up a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the fire. With a cheery wave that was at odds with his scowl, he departed in a whoosh of green flames.

"I'd better go as well," Hermione said, getting to her feet and stretching.

"Why? What's the hurry? I thought that Aurora was spending the evening with your parents," Harry frowned.

"Yes, she is, but I've still got loads to do. The ironing awaits me and it won't get done on its own," she grimaced, scooping up her handbag from the table beside her.

"You'll let us know what happens with Malfoy?" Harry asked, eyeing her with concern.

"Yeah, don't let him get the better of you," Ginny chipped in. "Play it your way, and if he doesn't like it, he knows what to do."

"I won't, you can be sure of that," Hermione reassured them. "I think I'll Floo home; I really can't be bothered to walk to the edge of your garden to Disapparate." Crossing the room, she grabbed a pinch of Floo powder, scattering it into the flames. With one last wave, she disappeared.

XoXoXoXo

Hermione sat at her desk, fiddling nervously with a pen while her eyes tracked the progress of the minute hand of the clock on the wall opposite her. She felt tense and hoped this meeting would prove fruitful. She glanced down at her neatly written notes, checking them for omissions for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. She was on edge and even now, questioned the wisdom of having the meeting in her office. But then, she reasoned, it was better here, on neutral territory, than in her flat or Malfoy Manor.

On the stroke of 2:30, there was a knock on her office door. She called," Come in," in what she hoped was a confident voice.

The Door was pushed open and Draco Malfoy strode into the room, shutting it behind him with a decisive click. As always, he was dressed in impeccably tailored robes, with not a hair out of place.

"Hermione, how are you?" he asked, smiling.

"Very well, thanks," she replied in a constrained voice, standing up and gesturing to the chair opposite her desk. Once he had seated himself, she too, sat down.

"I thought this would be a good opportunity for us to discuss a few things, away from prying eyes and ears," she began, resisting the impulse to glance down at her notes for assurance.

"Certainly," he sat back, looking completely at ease. Then as though he couldn't help himself, he asked, "Have you told Aurora about the marriage?"

"No, I thought I'd wait until we had a few details ironed out. I don't want to cause her more aggravation than strictly necessary; she's only a child, after all."

"Sounds sensible to me. So, what was it that you wished to discuss?" He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out beneath the desk.

"Various things to do with this marriage," she responded, fingers toying nervously with the parchment on her lap.

His eyebrows rose in what she assumed was surprise, but he said nothing, and waited for her to continue.

Glancing down at her list, she went on, "I've given this a lot of thought, and feel that the smaller the ceremony, the better for all concerned. After all, we don't want the press there. I thought a quick trip to the registry office should suffice."

Draco eyed her thoughtfully before shrugging. "I can't say I'm thrilled at the thought of such a small wedding, but if that's what you think best, then who am I to disagree? You'll be hard pressed to stop someone from the Prophet finding out, though. Our best bet is to allow one of them into the ceremony on the condition that they leave us be afterwards."

Deciding to ignore his lack of enthusiasm for a small wedding, she frowned in thought. He did have a point; they were both well-known in the Wizarding world and the announcement of the marriage had raised a lot of interest.

"I suppose so," she agreed, "but who says they'll leave us be afterwards?"

"Oh, they will. I'll make damned sure of that." Draco's words were quiet and Hermione could sense the determination behind them. She had no doubt that the Prophet would keep their side of the bargain. The steely glint in his eyes said as much.

She carried on in a business like way. "Good. Now that that's settled, I thought that we should limit the guests to a few on each side. Ron, Harry and Ginny will be there of course, and my parents. Is there anyone you'd like to invite?"

"Well, my mother and her husband, and my aunt Andromeda, Uncle Ted, and, if she can manage it, my cousin as well. That's all."

Hermione smiled. So far this was going better than she had dared to hope. He was certainly complying with all her wishes. Resisting the urge to tick the items off her list, she once more looked across the desk at him. "I haven't thought of a date. Have you any preferences?"

Draco turned to study the calendar mounted on the wall to the left of the desk. After a few moments, he turned back to her. "The sooner the better I think. The press is still sniffing around for news and it would never do to expose Aurora -- however unintentionally to that. At least, if we marry as soon as possible, she'll be protected by my name. The Daily Prophet won't dare to come near her if she were at the Manor."

Resentment rose in Hermione like a tide, but she forced it down. This was no time to be arguing over his implied disparagement of her living arrangements. Instead, she looked down at the parchment on her lap to give herself time to mask her feelings. Then in a cool voice which gave no hint of her simmering anger, she said, "In a few weeks then. I think that should be ok."

"A few weeks?" he questioned incredulously. "No, what I meant was in a week or so. There's no need to wait such a ridiculously long time." His eyes had narrowed with displeasure.

Biting back a smile, she responded in a calm voice. "But surely you need to give your family some warning of the date? If I'm correct in my assumption, your mother lives in America. You can't expect her to drop everything and come here at such short notice. I would never ask such a thing of my mother, and I don't feel it's right to put yours in such an awkward position." She wanted to laugh out loud at the look on his face; it was a mixture of disgust, anger and frustration.

Draco sat for a moment staring at her, while an inner battle raged within him. Finally, in a voice of forced calm he said, "The thing that all parents want is to see their children settled. To that end, I know that my mother and yours too, won't mind the short notice at all. In fact, they'll be glad that we're getting on with things. For what reason is there to wait?"

"Oh, lots of reasons," Hermione countered sweetly. "I need to arrange things at my end, then there's Aurora to think about. It'll take time for her to get used to the idea."

"What do you need to arrange that'll take so long?" he shot back. By the look of it, this was one battle he was determined to win.

"Oh this and that, my outfit, various things to do with the flat… You know odds and ends." Hermione knew she was grasping at straws but had no intention of rushing; she had plenty of time to put up with him after all, once they were married.

"That can all be taken care of," he dismissed. "As for Aurora, she'll be delighted at the news. I doubt whether it'll cause her the anxiety you envisage."

Unfortunately, he was right about that. Aurora would be more than pleased to learn that she would have a Daddy to gloat about. Although she had not mentioned it of late, the incident with Annabelle Mullings, Jack Creevy, and Alex Zabini at Andromeda Tonks's nursery had shaken her to the core, and she had jumped at the chance when Hermione had suggested that she join the infant school located near their flat. No, the child would be far from unhappy by the news, but Draco Malfoy need not know that.

"She's a child; of course she needs time to get used to the new arrangement. For as long as she can remember, it's just been the two of us - your introduction into our lives will take some getting used to."

His expression hardened at these words, but his voice was mild enough. "Well, put it to her and the rest of your family this evening, and see what they say. I'll do likewise and we'll discuss it again tomorrow. Now, was there anything else?"

Hermione had to admire his grit in the face of her attempts to goad him. He must really want this marriage to take place as swiftly as possible, or else he would never have let a comment such as that pass. Now for the tricky and less comfortable part of the discussion. She took a deep breath before saying, "We need to discuss living arrangements after the marriage."

His eyebrows rose in surprise at these words. "Living arrangements? Hermione, you and Aurora will be moving into the Manor. I thought I'd made that clear."

"What I meant was our living arrangements. That is yours and mine."

He frowned in puzzlement, and then his expression clearing, he asked, "Oh, you mean, you wish for us to have separate bedrooms?"

Relieved he had grasped her meaning, she nodded.

"That's not a problem; my parents had separate bedrooms as well. All the Malfoys have done so for as long as anyone can remember. We're great believers in preserving our own personal space."

Hermione resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. He wasn't making this any easier.

"Well that's good," she answered with a brittle smile. "However, you're missing the point. What I mean is this marriage, it'll be a marriage in name only." She didn't look at him as she spoke, preferring to focus on the parchment on her lap instead. Years of being a healer had rid her of any shyness regarding sexual matters, but as she was quickly realising, it was one thing to discuss such things with strangers when she could be clinically distant, and another altogether when it involved her personally.

Draco's jaw tensed and his eyebrows were threatening to disappear into his hairline as he regarded her from across the desk.

There was a long pause and then he said, "I see." His voice was clipped, and Hermione couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Raising her eyes to his now impassive face, she carried on. "We ought to have that included in the marriage contract. You know, just to finalise it."

His lip curled in disdain and in a voice of honeyed sweetness he drawled, "What, and have someone in the Ministry read the contract and realise? Imagine the scandal! I think not. Anyway, there'll be no need for that; I look for specific attributes in my bed mates…." He left the sentence hanging, but his gaze raked over her in the most insulting way she had ever come across.

She felt her face colour and looked down to hide her expression. There had been no need for him to finish his sentence; his expression had said it all. Obviously, she was not good enough for him, and would therefore be quite safe. Stamping down the mixture of feelings his revelation had provoked within her, she forced her eyes up to meet his, and continued. "Is your reputation all you care about? Who cares if people find out? It won't be the end of the world."

"For you, maybe not, but for Aurora, it'll be a disaster."

She sighed. He was right of course; if the Daily Prophet ever got wind of the fact that the marriage was just a sham, there would be endless speculation and all three of their names would be dragged through the mud. She couldn't care less about herself or Draco, but Aurora could never be subjected to that kind of slander.

"Fine," she scowled. "All I ask is that you be discrete about your liaisons with other women; it wouldn't do for the Daily Prophet to hear about such things either. If, one day in the future, one of us wishes to break off the marriage, we will do so without rancour and minimum fuss. After all, it's nothing more than a formality to protect Aurora."

She didn't see the tautening of his jaw as she spoke, nor the way his hand clenched into a fist. "One step at a time," he responded in a tight voice.

"But you agree it's for the best, if one of us does meet someone else later on and wants to settle down?" she persisted, leaning forward. It was imperative that she get his agreement on this one factor.

"I think we should take things one step at a time. You're forgetting Aurora - it's her happiness that must come before all else."

"I'm well aware of that, thanks, I just thought-"

"If it doesn't impinge on her wellbeing in any way, then yes, I agree it will be for the best," he interrupted her, his tone biting.

Relieved, she nodded as she glanced down her list of matters to be resolved. "I will, of course, retain my own name. It'll be easier all round if I do that."

To her relief, he shrugged in a bored manner. "As you wish."

"Now the only thing left to do is decide on a date. I'll talk to Mum and Dad this evening and see when they're next free. "

"Be sure to impress the urgency of the situation upon them. I'm sure they won't mind the short notice at all when you explain the state of affairs. Also, please inform Aurora as well this evening. The earlier she knows, the longer she'll have to get used to the idea. After all, it's going to be a big upheaval for her. I'll speak to my mother this evening and we'll discuss this again tomorrow."

"As I said, it'll be rather short notice and they're very busy with the practice and all that. I'll see what I can do though," she said, attempting to dispel the tension that had sprung up.

"One more thing," Draco drawled with a slight twist to the lips. "What exactly do you intend to do with your flat?"

"I'm not sure. I've thought about maybe selling or renting it, but haven't quite made up my mind." It was true; she had spent a lot of time over the past few days trying to decide what to do with her flat. The thought of selling didn't appeal to her as it was so final. Anyway, she might need the flat at a later date. Then there was the possibility of putting it up for rent. This would ensure the flat was still hers, as well as provide her with an income from it - but did she really want strangers in her home?

"The property market's flourishing at the moment. You'd get a good price for it, especially if you sold it to a witch or wizard." Draco smiled, having apparently got over his earlier anger. "Tell you what - I'll arrange it all for you. I know an estate agent who'll be more than happy to sell it for you. It's in a nice location and in excellent condition. People would pay good money for such a place." His eyes gleamed with enthusiasm, and Hermione felt a dart of unease go through her.

"That's true," she agreed noncommittally.

"Right then, that's sorted. I'll get on to Angus-"

"No, I didn't mean that I wanted to sell it. In fact, I'm seriously considering letting it," she interrupted hurriedly.

Draco's smile vanished. "Why? Letting's more hassle than it's worth; you're better off selling and getting it off your hands."

Standing up, Hermione walked across to the window. Turning to face him, she shrugged. "As I said, I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet."

He looked for a moment as though he may argue, but then a look of indifference came into his eyes. "Whatever you like." He stood up and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"To make this convincing, you and I need to be seen together in public, and soon," he drawled, smirking at her from across the spacious office.

She felt her heart sink. "I don't see why."

He smiled, "Oh yes you do. Now, as there isn't much time, maybe we can arrange a trip into Diagon Alley? That should be public enough."

She scowled, and reluctantly agreed to meet him in the heart of Wizarding London in two day's time.

"Excellent. We'll finalise the date tomorrow and be seen in public the day after that. See you then." Grinning, Draco strode from the room, robes billowing out behind him.

Hermione stared out of the window at the lush green fields of the Devonshire countryside laid out below her. The day was breezy with white clouds floating along high above, and the sun was visible between them, its rays picking out the shapes of the trees in the meadow below. It was a beautiful view and at any other time she would have enjoyed it, but now that her feelings were in such turmoil, it was difficult to think straight. She wasn't sure whether she felt relieved the meeting had gone so smoothly, or angry at the veiled insults and innuendoes that had been directed at her.

Her fingers fiddled with the catch of the window as her mind churned over the last hour, trying but failing to make some sense of it. Draco had been difficult to read, mostly displaying a mask of cool indifference, but now and then, strong emotion had overcome this façade, giving her a glimpse of his feelings. It was clear that he was anxious that the marriage take place, and soon, and she wondered not for the first time exactly why. Yes, he wanted Aurora, that was more than evident, but an instinct she could not name warned her there was more to it than that.

She knew she would have to talk to her parents that evening to see when they would next be free. Both had been deeply shocked when she had first told them of her decision and what had prompted it, but had reluctantly agreed that it was the best thing to do when she had explained her reasons for the marriage. She had not been specific about the date of the wedding, and wondered how they would react when she told them of Draco's plan. Her father had not been convinced when she had explained the happenings of the night of Aurora's conception, and it had taken her over an hour to justify her reasons for going ahead with it. Her mother on the other hand, had been much more accepting, but then she had always been one to see the good in any given situation.

Glancing at the clock, Hermione sighed - she may as well get it over with; there was no time like the present to talk to her parents. Both would be home from the practice, it being Thursday and early closing, and she still had over an hour before picking Aurora up from school. Anyway, she knew that she would not get any work done in her present frame of mind, and decided it was best to get on with things, rather than to stay there and let her mind twist itself into knots.

XoXoXoXo

"It's an extremely rare fabric," Madam Xensore encouraged, nodding at Hermione. "Not every young woman can wear such a colour you know."

"She's right, Hermione," Ginny agreed, fingering the French silk. "You do look lovely in it. Go for it."

"I don't know. It's rather extravagant, don't you think?" Hermione looked critically at herself in the full length mirror and frowned. "I mean, this is only going to be a small affair. Surely there's no need to go to such lengths?"

Madam Xensore's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Well, my dear, people only get married once, so why not? Anyway, you'll surely want to look nice for Mr. Malfoy? They're a very old family you know, and steeped in tradition. You must do him proud."

"I agree," Ginny chipped in. "Anyway, he's paying for it so what does it matter? If it were me, I'd buy the most expensive thing in the shop just to annoy him."

Hermione studied her reflection closely. It was true that the amethyst shade did bring out the colour of her hair, and that the silk felt weightless against her skin. The fabric was unlike anything she had ever worn before; light and shimmering, reminding her vividly of the texture of water. She turned round and winced as one of the pins holding the material together, jabbed her in the waist.

"Shall I have the robes made then?" the shop owner asked, watching Hermione. "Believe me, you'll look lovely in them as befits a Malfoy bride."

"Oh yes Mummy, you'll look like a queen!" Aurora exclaimed happily, surveying her mother through wide eyes. "You never get anything new for yourself so I think you should get those wobes. "

Hermione felt her face burn and turned away from the intent gaze of Madam Xensore. Typical, Aurora would have to pick now of all times to reveal this piece of information in front of the highly curious shop owner. Why did children have to blurt things out like that? She frowned across at her daughter who stared back determinedly.

"Well it's true, you never buy any clothes for you, only for me," the child protested undeterred.

Pretending she couldn't hear her, Hermione mused, "Well I suppose-"

"That's settled then." Ginny got awkwardly to her feet, and turning to the shop owner she asked, "Could both outfits be ready for next Saturday? "

"Of course," the woman reassured them, beaming now. "I'll supervise the making of them myself, you can be sure of that."

Having made the final arrangements, the three of them were soon ready to leave the shop for the bustling street outside.

"Where did Malfoy say he'd meet you?" Ginny asked as they stepped out into Diagon Alley.

"By Quality Quidditch Supplies," Hermione answered, as she tightened her grip on Aurora's hand.

"Ouch, Mummy! You're holding me too tightly," the child complained loudly, trying to tug her hand from Hermione's grasp.

"Well, you don't want to get lost, now do you? It's very busy here and we can't take any chances. Come on, there's lots to be done." With these words Hermione moved into the line of people moving past the small boutique, Ginny behind her.

"Hermione, I'm off," Ginny called, moving to stand beside the other woman. "I'll disapparate from that alleyway over there." She indicated to a small aperture between two shops with a nod of her head. "Good luck, I hope everything goes alright."

"Thanks for coming," Hermione smiled, "I couldn't have chosen the robes on my own."

"No probs," Ginny grinned. "At least you've got something decent to wear now for the big day. Merlin though, those robes really will be something once they've been made up."

"Yeah well, he's the one paying for them, not me."

"Yep, hence the reason you had to get something nice. They're much finer than anything I have. Maybe I should patronise Madam Xensore's shop in future."

"I don't think Harry'll appreciate that. Anyway, you'd better be off, standing about in Diagon Alley won't do you much good," Hermione grinned.

"Bye Aunty," Aurora chipped in, and turning, Ginny gave her a brief hug before crossing the cobbled street to the alleyway. Waving one last time, she disapparated.

"Come on then, let's find-"Hermione stopped, not sure how to carry on, but Aurora finished her sentence for her.

"Find Daddy you mean?" she piped up. "Let's go then."

Hermione stifled a sigh at her daughter's words. She had taken the news of the upcoming marriage with alacrity, and her eyes had shone with eagerness at the thought that Draco Malfoy would fill the previously vacant role of her father. She had certainly lost no time in telling everyone she met that she would have a new Daddy, 'just like everyone else', and delighted in addressing him as such when talking to people. Hermione doubted Draco would do anything to discourage this. She said nothing as they moved off down the crowded street. It was 4:30 in the afternoon and the twisting narrow street was packed with shoppers. This was indeed a good time for her to be seen in public with Draco Malfoy; no doubt it would be in tomorrow's Daily Prophet as they had planned.

It was Aurora who spotted him, standing by the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, eyes fixed on the merchandise on display. His hair caught the sun's rays, making it gleam. Hermione noticed a gaggle of teenage girls standing not far off, all eyeing him with great interest. She frowned in irritation; didn't they have anything better to do with their time rather than stand around and ogle people?

"Daddy!" Aurora called in a loud voice as they drew closer.

He turned and his face broke into a smile as he spotted them. "There you are! You're early; I wasn't expecting you for a good ten minutes yet."

"We had to go and choose our clothes for the wedding," Aurora told him importantly as she reached his side. "Silly Daddy, you should've known that."

Draco's eyes lit up as she spoke, and in spite of herself, Hermione felt herself returning his smile. For a moment their eyes met and a look she could not identify, crossed Draco's face. Was it gratitude, or hope, or maybe a mixture of both? Then the spell was broken and he was scooping Aurora up into his arms and hugging her tightly.

"If you keep growing at this rate, you'll be too big to be lifted," he grinned.

"You could always use your wand to pick me up," she suggested hopefully, while entwining her arms round his neck.

"Hmm, yes, but then I couldn't cuddle you as I'd be too busy holding you up using magic and that'd never do." He gave her a mock serious look as he spoke, hugging her more tightly.

"Shall we get moving?" Hermione suggested uneasily.

"Of course." Draco lowered Aurora to the ground as he spoke, taking her hand. "Hermione, where do you need to go?"

From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw a flash bulb go off across the street, and felt her heart sink. It certainly hadn't taken the press long to catch up with them.

Draco too, had seen the flash, for he stepped swiftly in front of Aurora, screening her from view. Hermione, taking her other hand, also moved in front of her.

"Let's go into Flourish and Blotts. There's a book I need to pick up," she said tensely, as they moved down the street, keeping a wary eye out for photographers who may be lurking about.

Draco nodded. "Good idea. We can get lost amongst the stacks of books," he smiled reassuringly. "Relax Hermione, everything's going to be okay, I promise."

"I know, it's just…well-"she broke off, not knowing how to continue.

"They won't be able to get any clear shots of her in this crowd. Why do you think I chose Diagon Alley?"

"Who's going to shoot who? Can I watch?" Aurora asked with interest as they reached the bookshop.

Draco grinned. "No one's going to shoot anyone, it's just an expression," he explained, as they entered the busy shop.

Aurora had lost interest and was glancing round her in fascination. "Oh wow, can I have a book please, Mummy? One where the pictures move?"

"You have lots of books. You don't need any more," Hermione reproved gently. "Maybe when you've learned to read we can get a new one from here, but for the time being, you've more than enough books to be getting on with. Remember the nice books grandma and granddad got you a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah, but none of the letters move like they do in those books." She pointed to a brightly coloured display of children's reading books, on the covers of which letters and pictures were moving around to spell different words.

Hermione sighed. Aurora loved books, and she would have liked nothing better to get her one of these which would have been a great aid in helping the child to read, but knew for the next week at least, she wouldn't be able to afford it.

Draco, as though sensing her dilemma, turned to Aurora and said, "Tell you what Princess, if you're really good while we finish our shopping, then we'll see about getting you one of those books, okay?"

Aurora nodded and asked, "Can I choose the book I want then?"

"We'll see," Draco replied noncommittally.

"I just need to collect one book. I shouldn't be long," Hermione said, joining the queue of people waiting at the customer service desk.

"We'll wait over here." Draco nodded to the display of children's books at one side of the shop. Aurora's eyes lit up as they turned away.

Ten minutes later, Hermione had collected her book, and they were making their way out of the busy shop, a disgruntled look on Aurora's face. She had obviously not got her book, and Hermione felt relieved that Draco had not given into the child's wiles.

She couldn't help noticing the stares they were attracting though; people kept glancing at them before quickly looking away. By the slight tightening of his mouth, she knew that Draco, too, had noticed the glances. Several people were shooting curious looks at Aurora, and Hermione drew the child closer to her.

"I'm hungry," Aurora announced, looking up at her mother. "Can we eat something?"

Draco glanced at his watch before turning to Hermione. "What else do you need to do in Diagon Alley?"

"Nothing much, I just had to pick this up from Flourish and Blotts." Hermione indicated her pocket in which she had placed the book she had bought.

"In that case, let's stop off at that café next to Ilops. It's quiet and has very nice cakes."

"Oh, yes, please!" Aurora nodded and Hermione smiled down at her.

They crossed the street and entered the cosy looking café. The bell on the door tinkled as they pushed it open, causing the owners, a plump middle aged couple, to look up from where they had been standing at the counter chatting with a customer. The woman's eyes widened as she looked at them, and Hermione turned Aurora away from their intent gaze.

In the next moment, the woman was hurrying round the counter. "Mr Malfoy, and… Healer Granger?" Her eyes were wide as they travelled over the wizard, witch, and child.

"Um, we'd like a table for three," Hermione explained, glancing round her.

Before the woman could answer however, another voice interrupted. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Hermione Granger, soon to be Hermione Malfoy. This is a surprise!"

Turning around, Hermione came face to face with Rita Skeeter, who stood smiling at her, the false jewels on her glasses winking in the evening sunlight.

"Oh, and why is that?" Draco had stepped forward, a steely glint in his eyes.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, you're here too! A family outing, how lovely!" If possible, Rita's smile grew even wider.

"Isn't it indeed," Draco drawled in a bored voice. "Now if you'll excuse us."

Rita glanced quickly around the quiet café before lowering her voice. "I was actually hoping that you may consent to a little interview, for the Prophet. After all, it isn't every day that two such well-known people decide to get married."

Draco shot her a long, penetrating look before shrugging. "Fine, but make it quick, we don't have all evening!"

She nodded enthusiastically in response. "Oh no, just a few questions, that's all. Shall we sit down? It'll be much more comfortable."

Shooting her another piercing look, Draco led them to a corner table, pulling out Hermione's chair for her. Sitting down, Hermione pulled Aurora onto her lap and glared across at Rita Skeeter, who had seated herself opposite them. Draco slid into the seat beside Hermione, looking supremely bored.

"What would you like to eat, Angel?" he asked, turning to Aurora. She nodded at a cream bun in a display of cakes on one side of the long counter.

Beckoning the plump shop owner over, he placed their order before turning back to an eager Rita Skeeter, who was watching them with wide eyes. Hermione noticed that she had not taken out her famous Quick Quotes Quill, but simply sat watching them avidly.

"Adorable child," she commented, staring at Aurora. "How old is she?"

"Just over four and a half," Hermione responded through stiff lips, as Draco threw a casual arm across her shoulders.

"She takes after you in colouring," Rita said, ignoring Hermione's scowl, "I wonder, has she inherited any of her father's features?"

Hermione supposed it was inevitable that she would be asked this as she tried, unobtrusively, to shift Draco's arm off her shoulders, but without success.

"Some," she replied guardedly.

"According to the Prophet, he died in the war. No one knew that you had been married before." Rita's words, although bland, held an undertone of accusation as she studied Hermione's face.

"Ah Rita, I'm sure you'll agree that everyone's entitled to a bit of privacy," Draco smiled across at the reporter, while stretching his legs out beneath the table. If Hermione didn't know better, she would have said he was enjoying this.

At that moment, their tea arrived, and there was a pause as the tea things were set out. Finally, when the curious waitress had moved away, Rita resumed. "Oh, of course. But still, we had no idea that you had been married."

Hermione stifled a sigh as she added sugar to her tea. She may as well get the worst over with, by the looks of it, Rita was intent on getting as much information as she could about Aurora's supposed muggle father, and that which she did not find out, she would no doubt make up.

"Well Ian and I had known one another for some time, and when I completed my training at St Mungo's, we decided to get married." The well rehearsed story tripped easily off her tongue. "It was all kept very quiet because of the war and all that. Unfortunately, Ian happened to be one of those on the Ferry that Voldemort decided to sink, which killed over four hundred muggles." She shuddered, remembering the incident; it had been one of the worst muggle killings in Voldemort's reign of terror, and was not easily forgotten.

From the look on her face, Rita, too, clearly remembered the tragic episode, for she winced and took a hasty gulp of tea. Draco shot Hermione a thoughtful glance but said nothing.

The pause was broken by Aurora, who, swallowing a mouthful of cream, announced, "This is yummy! Can I have another bun when I've finished this one?"

"No," Hermione told her, "otherwise you'll be sick."

Aurora looked as though she was going to argue the point, but thinking better of it, shrugged and resumed eating. The tension however was broken and Rita focused once more on Hermione.

"I'm sorry to hear that. So when did the two of you meet?" she resumed eagerly.

"A few months ago," Draco answered with a lazy smirk. "We met at Hanwell's in the course of our work and one thing lead to another and here we are." He smiled at Hermione as he spoke.

"A few months isn't very long," the curious reporter persisted, leaning forward and watching him intently.

"No, maybe not for most couples, but then you forget we knew each other from Hogwarts, so we weren't complete strangers," Draco replied coolly.

"Ah, but if my memory serves me right, you didn't exactly get on at Hogwarts."

"No, but people grow up and when we met again at Hanwell's, we found that we had a lot more in common. You know interests and so on, plus we weren't hampered by old school rivalries." He took a sip of tea, leaning back in his chair, looking as though he didn't have a care in the world. .

"I see." Rita's eyes moved to Aurora, who was busy finishing the last of her bun. "Giving someone else's child your name is certainly unusual after such a brief acquaintance." She changed tack at the speed of lightening, and Hermione stiffened. This was the bit she was dreading, but then she reasoned if anyone could sound convincing, it was Draco.

He merely shrugged carelessly in response to the question. "Not really. The child needs a father, and as Hermione and I are marrying, it's only right."

Even to Hermione's ears, this sounded like a lame comeback. The day Draco Malfoy did something because it was 'only right', would be the day that she played Quidditch for England.

Rita Skeeter seemed to be thinking along the same lines for her eyes narrowed in scepticism. "But Mr. Malfoy, it isn't common practice as you know. Why, I don't think that it has ever been done in your family before. The Malfoys usually marry debutantes straight out of school. Your Great Grandfather married a widow it is true, but she was his second wife and had no children.

Hermione had to admire the woman, she had obviously done her homework regarding the Malfoy family.

Draco didn't answer for a moment, but leaned over and wiped a dollop of cream from the corner of Aurora's mouth with his handkerchief. Turning back to Rita, he smiled. "Well, as I said, it's only right. It wouldn't do to exclude her, after all. As for my marrying a widow, I wasn't aware there was a law prohibiting this."

"In the case of most people, no, but the Malfoys have never been known to subscribe to the same laws as the rest of us. There must be a good reason why you're giving this child your name."

Draco merely shrugged in a bored manner in response. Clearly he had no intention of explaining his actions.

Hermione felt herself tense, he was doing nothing to allay the speculation in the reporters eyes, in fact, he seemed to be encouraging it. She frowned at him.

"And your mother? How does she feel about this?" Rita asked with barely concealed frustration.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Draco beat her to it. "Oh, she thinks it's a wonderful idea. Mother's a firm believer in forward thinking. She can't wait to have a child in the family to spoil."

Rita's sharp eyes travelled between Aurora and Draco, and Hermione could almost see the speculation in them. This was not good. Not good at all. He couldn't be doing this, not after they had agreed on what they were going to tell the press. Swiftly, she cleared her throat, putting down her barely touched cup of tea.

"We should really be on our way, Draco, we've still got lots to do," she said tensely, pushing back her chair and lifting Aurora off her lap.

"Of course," Draco stood, and turning to Rita, drawled, "It's been a pleasure Rita, as always." He had the look of a man well pleased with the way things had turned out.

"You too!" The reporter smiled broadly while collecting her things, eyes shining. She seemed to have forgotten the frustration of earlier and Hermione was sure that she was even now putting two and two together, as only she could.

Not looking at her, Hermione took Aurora's hand and made her way out of the café, a feeling of disquiet taking hold of her insides.

"I'll see you in the apothecary," she threw over her shoulder at Draco. He nodded while settling their bill.

She felt slightly annoyed as they emerged on to the street. How could she have not seen this coming? She knew that Draco wanted to acknowledge Aurora as his biological child, but had thought that he would have at least kept up the pretence until after the marriage. Clearly, she had been mistaken. He had done nothing to dispel the curiosity in Rita Skeeter's eyes when she had asked why he was giving Aurora his name. If anything, he had fuelled it, and purposely.

It didn't take a genius to work out why he was doing this. He had been openly contemptuous about Aurora's supposed Muggle father and wanted, however subtly, to imply that she was his. Also, he wanted to ensure that she, Hermione, could not back out of her decision to go ahead with the marriage, by implying to the press that Aurora was his. There would be uproar if she so much as thought of backing out. What was worse, he would be perceived to be the injured party, and if it got to a court of law…No, she couldn't think like that, she couldn't!

She sighed as she and Aurora entered the cramped apothecary. This marriage was proving to be more aggravation than it was worth, and she would be glad when it was all over. Maybe then would things go back to a semblance of normality. She just hoped that she was doing the right thing for Aurora by going ahead with the marriage. Both Draco and Aurora seemed excited; she only wished she could share in their optimism.


	12. Chapter 11

Authors Note: Happy new year to you all! As always thanks for reviewing, and to my beta for editing this. The words of the wedding ceremony were taken from with a few changes by my beta and me.

Chapter Eleven

"What do you think?" Draco turned to Theodore Nott, who was lounging in an arm chair at his ease, the Daily Prophet lying open on his lap.

"Stop fussing, you look fine." Theodore barely glanced up from the paper as he spoke. "Blimey, the Prophet's having a field day about this marriage of yours."

"They've been at it all week; it's nothing new. No doubt they'll tire of it once it's all over." The nervous blond glanced once more into the mirror to check his hair was tidy.

"I doubt it; you've always generated a lot of interest, and so has Granger. Throw in a child whose paternity they know nothing about, and they go mad."

Draco bit back a sigh; his friend had been talking in this vein since he had arrived at the Manor the night before. "Of course they know about her paternity - it says it in there." He thumbed over his shoulder at the newspaper before turning back to the mirror.

"Oh, that," Theodore made a dismissive sound in his throat. "That's only what Granger's told them, but you don't honestly believe it, do you? I mean, come on, this is the first time that anyone's heard of this husband of hers, and that's a bit odd considering what a well-known figure she is. Hell, most of us didn't even know she had a kid who's almost five."

"Maybe she thinks that her private life should remain just that - private." Draco readjusted the collar of his robes as he spoke. "After all, not all of us want our every move splashed over the papers. As for Aurora, I've known about her for ages now. Just because the rest of the world didn't is no sin you know." He frowned at Theodore through the mirror. It was perfectly understandable that his closest friend wanted to know his reasons for the marriage, but right then, butterflies had taken up residence in his stomach, making rational thought impossible. What if Hermione changed her mind and called it off at the last minute? He wouldn't put it past her to do that.

"I know that, but still, it's odd. What's even odder is that you're marrying Granger and giving her kid your name, and that definitely isn't like you! The day you do something for altruistic reasons will be the day that you'll fight for the freedom of house elves."

Theodore's voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he smiled in spite of himself. "Now that's not nice. I'm a very generous person at heart."

"Yeah, only if there's something in it for you, so come on, out with it. Why are you marrying Granger, and giving her child your name?" The man was like a dog with a bone, never giving up until he got what he wanted. It was one of the things that held their friendship together, even though Theodore now lived in Holland, and had done so since leaving school.

"Because I like Hermione, and think we can get on well together. As for Aurora, she's a nice child who needs a father." Draco knew full well that Theodore didn't believe this trite explanation, but he didn't feel like going into the intricacies of the matter right before the wedding. Theodore would work it out for himself when he saw Aurora.

"Right, whatever." The other man's brows were threatening to disappear in to his hairline as he spoke. "Incidentally, the photo of the kid isn't very clear; all you can see is a mane of brown hair, just like Granger's."

"You'll see her at the ceremony." Draco threw down his comb and glanced at the clock.

Theodore stood up, tossing the paper onto a low side table and adjusted his dress robes. "Now that you've finished primping and preening, we'd better go."

"There's nothing wrong with making one's self presentable for one's own wedding," Draco glanced once more into the mirror as he led the way out of the room.

"There's making oneself presentable and primping like a woman," Theodore grumbled as he followed the blond down the wide staircase of Malfoy Manor into the hall. "Where is the ceremony going to take place?"

"The Ceremony Hall by Worcester Cathedral of course. Come on or else we'll be late."

The two made their way to the Apparition chamber located behind the portrait of a knight, Disapparating with loud pops to appear a moment later in the foyer of a small and exclusive old magical building located to one side of Worcester Cathedral.

"It doesn't look like anyone else is here yet," Theodore remarked, glancing round the empty room. "It hasn't changed since my father's time."

At that moment, a door opened and a tall man dressed in sombre robes with a long white beard entered. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott, this is a pleasure."

"Entwhistle, it's nice to see you. Has anyone else arrived yet?" Draco asked the old caretaker anxiously.

"Only the people from the Daily Prophet. If you would like to come into the antechamber, it will be more comfortable. You can wait in there."

"Trust the Prophet to get here before anyone else. I wonder whom they've sent; maybe Rita Skeeter?" Theodore suggested.

"No, it won't be her, for she's in Birmingham for some fashion event. I checked."

They followed Entwhistle's upright figure into the next room. This too, had a high ceiling with chairs dotted about. Tapestries of old castles hung on the walls, and a large clock stood to one side, ticking away the seconds. A man and woman were standing by one of the tapestries, the man with a large camera slung round his neck. On seeing Draco and Theodore, they moved forward.

"Mr Malfoy," the woman smiled nervously, "I'm Rose Zella, reporter from the Daily Prophet and this is Len Thomas." She indicated the man with a nod.

"Good, I specifically said there were to be no more than two of you here." Draco threw the pair a sharp glance. "Now, you're to keep out of the way, no pestering questions or anything like that until after the ceremony." He knew he was being unnecessarily harsh on these two, who had yet done nothing to deserve it, but his nerves were getting the better of him, and what better way to vent them than on a couple of Daily Prophet reporters?

"Of course," Rose agreed hurriedly. "But you won't mind if we could have a quick interview with you and take a few pictures for the Prophet?"

"Once the ceremony's over, then yes, but before that, no."

Rose didn't argue. She couldn't have been more than 21 or 22, and was clearly nervous. The photographer threw him a filthy look, but like the reporter, didn't dispute the injunction.

Draco, too nervous to sit down, began to pace the room, trying not to look at the hands of the clock. He doubted that he had ever suffered from nerves such as these before. He wasn't nervous about the wedding, but about what might be going through his bride's mind at that very moment.

His mother had been more than happy to look in on Hermione to make sure that all was well as well as to hand over the Malfoy diamonds, leaving for the flat over an hour ago, but it didn't make him feel any better. He wondered if he ought to have dropped in himself, but when he had mentioned the idea to his mother, she had shaken her head, explaining that according to Muggle custom, it was bad luck for the groom to see his bride on the morning of the wedding.

His other main worry was the Rune Proclamation, as it was called. What if the runes glowed black after the ceremony? No, he wouldn't think about that, not until he had to.

The sound of the familiar pop of Apparition made him turn round to face the door. His Aunt Andromeda, Uncle Ted, and stepfather had all Apparated into the room beyond, and were now making their way into the antechamber, laughing and joking.

"Draco, how are you?" His Aunt swept across to him, and bending down, kissed his cheek. "I must say, you are certainly looking well. Where's Narcissa? I would have thought that she'd be here."

"I'm very well, thanks Aunt. Mother's at Hermione's, just making sure that all's well." He shrugged. "Where's Nymphadora? I thought she was going to be here."

"And she would have been, had she been able to get back from Siberia as planned," his uncle explained, stepping forward and shaking hands. "She was quite upset about missing the big day I can tell you."

"I bet she was," Draco muttered. Memories of his cousin's continual teasing, especially during his first year at Hogwarts when she had frequently visited the school to visit Professor Flitwick from whom she had been taking extra tuition in stealth and tracking charms for her Aura training, flooded his mind, but at the same time, he knew that she would have been genuinely pleased for him.

"Apparently, the mission she was on didn't go as planned, and it's taking longer than expected. Naturally, she asked her boss if she could come back and someone else take her place, but he wouldn't hear of it," Andromeda added, glancing round her. "I see the Prophet is here."

"Oh yes, they were here before we were." Draco smiled mirthlessly.

"How about the private photographer? You did hire one, didn't you?" his aunt asked.

"Mother would have had a fit if I hadn't. I hired Ranjit Dibpal; he should be here in a bit."

"I should think so too. Not to have a decent photographer on your wedding day; it's positively scandalous," she shook her head.

Tamping down his disappointment that his cousin couldn't attend, Draco turned to his stepfather who had been watching him thoughtfully.

"Was the journey alright, Steven?"

"Well, you know transatlantic Apparition, but here I am. I'm sorry I couldn't come yesterday with your mother as planned."

"Oh, that's okay; you're here now." Draco smiled at his dark-haired and rugged-looking stepfather. The man could be a little odd at times, but he made his mother happy, and that was what counted.

"I say, what's this girl look like? 'Cissa said something about her being a Healer." Steven looked hopefully around the room, as though to spy Hermione lurking in a corner.

"Yes, she works for Hanwell's hospital."

"My, my, top-class place that. She must have brains to get into a place like that." The American winked at his stepson and Draco grinned in spite of his nerves.

"Well I suppose so. She was always coming top of our class at Hogwarts, and is one of Hanwell's youngest healers."

"Hmm, I see. Brains are always an asset in a woman I say. Well, the best of luck to you, lad."

The sound of voices made them turn around. Entering the room were Harry and Ginny Potter, and Ron Weasley. All three were scowling, but said nothing. Hermione had probably made them promise to keep civil tongues in their head for this one day, and Draco sincerely hoped so. He didn't feel up to a spat with that lot today of all days.

"That's not Harry Potter is it?" Steven breathed into Draco's ear, eyes wide with interest.

"He's a friend of Hermione's," Draco replied, heart sinking. He had a nasty feeling he knew what was coming. Sure enough, the other man's next words confirmed his suspicions.

"Will you introduce me? I've always wanted to meet him."

"Well, I don't know him so…"

"Nonsense! 'Cissa says you were in the same year at Hogwarts, and played against each other in Quidditch, so of course you know him."

Draco refrained from pointing out that he couldn't stand Harry Potter, for he didn't think it would make any difference. Instead, deciding to get it over with, he strode over to where Harry and the others stood, his stepfather right behind him.

"Excuse me, Potter, my stepfather, Steven Fits-Gerald, would like to be introduced. Steven, this is Harry Potter." He hoped he didn't sound too disdainful as he introduced the four-eyed git. .

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Steven smiled, stepping forward and holding out his hand.

Harry's eyes widened as he stared at the older man. "Are you the Steven Fits-Gerald who owns the Silver Arrow Broom Company?"

"I sure am." The older man looked pleased.

Harry's gaze moved from Steven to Draco, the speculation in them evident. Before he could say anything else however, the fireplace behind him came to life, and stepping out of the green flames was Narcissa Fits-Gerald, clutching Aurora tightly to her.

"Mother, there you are." Draco hurried across to them looking relieved. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh yes." Narcissa leaned forward and emulating her sister, kissed his cheek. "Just a slight last minute hitch with Hermione's robes, but it's all been taken care of." She brushed some lint from Aurora's silvery silk robes as she spoke.

"Hello, my angel, how are you?" Draco scooped the child up and hugged her tightly.

"I'm okay, but Mummy's not feeling well." She gave him a worried look as she spoke.

"She's fine; just had an attack of last minute nerves," Narcissa said bracingly. "It's perfectly common in brides. I gave her a few drops of the Marshall calming draft and she was as right as rain."

From the corner of his eye, Draco saw the squat form of Ranjit Dibpal entering the room. The man was the best photographer and portrait painter that money could buy, and nothing less than the best would do today.

Behind them, the fireplace came to life again, and a tall man wearing a suit and tie stepped out on shaky legs. Clearly, travelling by Floo wasn't agreeing with him. This, Draco guessed, must be Hermione's father.

"Gwandad, are you okay?" Aurora asked, watching the man intently.

"Yes, poppet, just fine," John Granger muttered, taking deep, steadying breaths. His colour was slowly returning, and he straightened up, looking round him.

"Where's Hermione?" The knot in Draco's stomach tightened as he stared into the fireplace while lowering Aurora to the floor.

"Oh, she is going to use a Portkey and bring her mother with her. We didn't think it was a good idea for her to travel alone on her wedding day. Shall we get ready? She'll be here in a few minutes and then we can get started." Narcissa moved over to her husband as she spoke, linking her arm with his.

There were nods of agreement, and the group moved towards the double doors to one side of the room, Aurora falling back to walk beside her still pale grandfather.

Stepping into the room beyond, Draco looked around him. The room was large with a vaulted ceiling. Stain glass windows, similar to those of the cathedral opposite, depicted noteworthy witches and wizards of the past; amongst them were Merlin, Morgana, and Paracelsus. The floor was made of an ancient wood, into which were carved strange symbols and runes. The place gave off an air of ancient and powerful magic, and Draco shivered in spite of himself. The age of the building was not known, although it was thought to have been built a hundred years or so before Hogwarts.

His attention was drawn to the narrow stone table in the centre of the room, which, according to his father, had been there for as long as Hogwarts had been standing. This too, had carvings of runes and symbols on it, and all marriages of any note, had taken place across it. Even the Weasleys, who loved all things Muggle, had all married here. Stone benches stood to either side of the table; those facing north for the relatives of the groom, and those facing south for those of the bride.

Taking his place facing north by the foot-wide table, he watched as Theodore, plus his mother, stepfather, and aunt and uncle, seated themselves on the bench behind him. Opposite him, the Potters, Weasleys, and Hermione's father were seating themselves. Aurora was seated beside Hermione's father, and catching her eye, Draco smiled at her. After a moment, she smiled back, although she looked nervous, her eyes travelling warily round the large room with obvious agitation.

Everyone looked towards the antechamber expectantly, and a few people jumped when the sound of someone Portkey-in into the building reached them. A moment later, the doors were pushed open by a woman who looked like an older version of Hermione, but with slightly greying hair, and eyes that were blue rather than brown. She was smartly dressed in a two-piece outfit, and made her way to the empty seat beside Aurora, looking around her with interest.

All eyes now turned to the figure of the woman following her. Hermione looked pale but composed as she walked towards them, her robes swishing with every movement. She reminded Draco of an ice queen, her expression frozen into implacability as she took her place opposite him. The amethyst shade of her fitted silk robes highlighted her chestnut-coloured hair, and illuminated her pale skin while the diamond and platinum tiara, earrings, and necklace traditionally worn by all Malfoy brides, glinted in the light from the stain glass windows, and added to her air of aloofness.

"Are we ready to start?"

A man, tall and thin, and dressed in robes of pure white, stepped forward to stand at the head of the stone table. He was the same priest who had officiated at Draco's parents' marriage ceremony almost thirty years ago.

Both Draco and Hermione placed their palms flat on the stone table within two carved lines running from one side of the table to the other. The lines were about a foot apart and Draco glanced down at his hands to make sure they were exactly parallel to the lines. Opposite him, Hermione did the same. Then they nodded, and he cleared his throat.

"We have come together here in celebration of the joining together of Hermione Jane Granger and Draco Abraxius Malfoy." The priest's voice rang out in the silent room, deep and commanding, and no one moved. "Much wisdom concerning the joining together of two souls, has come our way through all paths of belief, and from many cultures. With each union, more knowledge is gained, and more wisdom gathered. Though we are unable to give all this knowledge to these two who stand before us, we can hope to leave with them the knowledge of love and its strengths, and the anticipation of the wisdom that comes with time. The law of life is love unto all beings. Without love, life is nothing; without love, death has no redemption. Love is anterior to Life, posterior to Death, initial of Creation, and the exponent of Earth. If we learn no more in life, let it be this."

His gaze swept the group, and the stillness in the room increased. Even the reporter from the Daily Prophet was still, her quill clutched in tense fingers.

"Marriage is a bond to be entered into only after considerable thought and reflection. As with any aspect of life, it has its cycles; its ups and its downs, its trials and its triumphs. With full understanding of this, these two have come here today to be joined as one in marriage." His eyes lingered on the couple standing at either side of the table, and Draco could have sworn the old man could read both their thoughts.

"Above you is the sky, below you the earth. Like the sky, let your love be free, and full of movement and change. Like the earth, let your love be solid, firm, and nourishing. Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping. Even in anger, remember your love and your commitment to each other. Make love often, and be passionate with one another. Walk the path of life together, but if ever you part, remember that the bond of friendship is the strongest between you. Be free in giving affection and warmth. Have no fear, and let not the ways of the unenlightened give you unease, for God is with you always." His voice was quiet now but no less clear.

He turned to look at Draco. "Draco Abraxius Malfoy, I have not the right to bind you to Hermione Jane Granger, only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time.

"It is my wish." Draco looked directly at Hermione as he spoke but she did not meet his eyes.

"Hermione Jane Granger, I have not the right to bind you to Draco Abraxius Malfoy, only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time."

There was a barely perceptible pause before Hermione said in a quiet, but resolute voice, "It is my wish."

The priest continued, "Hermione Jane Granger, if it be your wish for Draco Abraxius Malfoy to be bound to you, place the ring on his finger."

With a hand that was not quite steady, Hermione took the traditional Malfoy platinum wedding band from the priest, and leaning forward over the table, placed it with fumbling fingers on Draco's left ring finger.

"Draco Abraxius Malfoy, if it be your wish for Hermione Jane Granger to be bound to you, place the ring on her finger."

Taking the smaller, but no less impressive, Malfoy platinum wedding band from the priest, Draco leaned forward and slipped it onto Hermione's left ring finger.

Straightening, he smiled before saying in a clear, carrying voice, "I, Draco Abraxius Malfoy, in the name of the spirit of God that resides within us all, and by the life that courses within my blood, and the love that exists within my heart, take you, Hermione Jane Granger, to my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. To desire you, and be desired by you; to possess you, and be possessed by you, without sin or shame, for nothing can exist in the purity of my love for you. I promise to love you wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I shall not seek to change you in any way, I shall respect you, your beliefs, your people, and your ways as I respect myself."

He saw there was a sheen of tears in Hermione's eyes, and knew that the words had affected her as deeply as they had him.

She took a deep breath before responding in a shaky voice. "I, Hermione Jane Granger, in the name of the spirit of God that resides within us all, by the life that courses within my blood, and the love that exists within my heart, take you, Draco Abraxius Malfoy, to my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. To desire you and be desired by you, to possess you and be possessed by you, without sin or shame, for nothing can exist in the purity of my love for you. I promise to love you wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I shall not seek to change you in any way, I shall respect you, your beliefs, your people, and your ways as I respect myself."

There was a silence, and Draco felt an odd sensation sweep over him. This was it, the moment of truth! At the same time, the runes carved in the floor and table before him, seemed to glow with a bluish light. The stone table beneath his hands vibrated and began to omit heat, which radiated into his palms and up his arms to travel through his whole body. Around him, everyone held their breath, all eyes fixed on the glowing runes. After a few seconds, the light changed colour to a dull grey, first dimming until it was hardly visible, then brightening until it glowed pure gold before fading completely. Draco felt the heat of the table dim with the light, and then increase in intensity as the runes before him glowed gold. Then it was gone, and he was left with the cool stone of the table under his palms.

The priest smiled and continued. "By the power vested in me by God, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May your love so endure that its flame remains a guiding light unto you." He shot both a penetrating glance, and Draco was only too aware as to its meaning.

Around them, people were getting to their feet, his friends and family all smiling broadly while Hermione's family and friends wore guarded looks that were hard to read.

"You need to kiss your bride, Draco," his aunt said from behind him, her face alight with pleasure.

That was all the prompting he needed. Moving swiftly round the table, he turned a still dazed Hermione to face him, and raising her chin with a finger, bent and pressed his mouth to hers. She stood unresponsive in his embrace, and after a moment, he straightened reluctantly, although didn't release her. There was a time and place to coax a response from her, and this was not it.

"Congratulations to you both," Narcissa beamed, stepping forward and hugging each in turn. Then to Hermione, "Welcome to the family, my dear, you don't know how happy your marriage has made me."

"Hmph."

Draco turned, his arm still around Hermione to see Ginny Potter standing behind them, unsmiling. Stepping forward, she too, hugged Hermione while ignoring him.

"So the deed is done," she said quietly.

"Yes." Hermione's voice was also quiet, but determined.

"No surprises?"

Hermione shrugged. "No, not really."

"Well, I hope things work out as you'd like them to," she shot Draco a cool glance as she spoke, which he returned.

He felt annoyance bubbling up inside him. Trust Ginny Potter to be so pessimistic, but then what else could he expect from Hermione's friends? His lips curved in a smile as he remembered the way the runes had glowed pure gold before the light had faded from them. They certainly hadn't done that during her wedding to Potter!

"Mummy?" Aurora stood behind them, looking wary while Hermione's parents stood on either side of her, eyeing him speculatively.

Withdrawing herself from Draco's arm, Hermione turned to the wide-eyed child and hugged her.

"So are you really mawied now like everyone else's Mummies and Daddies?" Aurora asked curiously, while eyeing them with interest.

"Yes, just like them," Hermione affirmed. Then, turning to her parents, she said, "Mum, Dad, you haven't met Draco. Draco, these are my parents, John and Alison Granger."

"It's nice to meet you at last." Draco shook hands with the older couple. "I've heard lots about you both." In truth, it had been from Aurora that he had gleaned what little information he could about his in-laws. Hermione had never discussed them, other than to say they would be at the wedding.

"I hope you're both happy together," John Granger said stiffly. "Hermione and Aurora deserve nothing but the best."

"I couldn't agree more," Draco smiled reassuringly at his father-in-law.

"If you don't mind me asking, but what did the glowing of all those shapes mean?" Alison Granger nodded at one of the runes etched into the floor by her feet.

"Well, the shapes represent the different strengths looked for in a marriage," Hermione explained. She seemed to have shaken off the numbness that had engulfed her until now. "They're called runes, and are used during the ceremony itself. The colour and strength of the light they omit at the end is an indication as to how strong the marriage will be and so on."

Both Muggles were staring at her now. "What, so it's a prediction of how the marriage will turn out?" John asked with interest, his mistrust towards Draco forgotten for the moment.

"It's an indication of how it could turn out, the different colours of light denote all the possible outcomes," Draco responded.

"So what did the different colours mean then?" Alison asked, wide-eyed with interest.

At that point, Ron Weasley who had come up behind them while they were talking, said, "Oh, people don't set too much store by that nowadays. I wouldn't worry about what those colours meant."

Draco snorted, trust Weasley to try and deny the evidence of his own eyes. He would have delivered a scathing retort, but his mother laid a hand on his shoulder, forestalling him.

"The Prophet would like to take photos now, Draco. Once that's done, they can go and leave us be."

"Of course." Hugging Hermione and Aurora to him, he led the way out of the room into the small flower-bedecked garden located to the back of the hall.

It was rumoured that this garden was as old as the building behind which it stood. Many of the flowers that grew there could not be found anywhere else in the country, their scents heady in the afternoon sunlight. A lake smooth as glass, stood to one side of the garden, the sun's light refracting off its shimmering surface. The mellow brick walls were covered with a flowering creeper, which was thought to have been imported from Egypt over 900 years ago. Birdsong, sweet and melodic, drifted to them, although the birds themselves could not be seen amongst the green foliage of the trees.

Draco felt as though he was stepping back in time a few hundred years, and looked around him in appreciation. The garden felt ancient, as though the passing of time had not touched it.

"This place never loses its charm," Harry commented from behind Draco as they went to stand on the square of grass fronting the lake.

The two photographers now moved forward, cameras poised.

"Let's concentrate on the photos for the Prophet first," Draco suggested to nods of agreement from his family.

The group arranged themselves behind Draco, Aurora, and Hermione, while both photographers took photos of them from various angles.

"Could we have one of just the couple?" Len Thomas asked while adjusting the lens of his camera.

Draco moved to stand beside Hermione, drawing her possessively against him. For a moment she stiffened, but seemed to think better of protesting when she saw that the photographer was watching them avidly.

"Smile, my dear," Draco murmured as the cameras flashed.

"Now, one with the child as well." Len Thomas nodded towards Aurora, and putting out an arm, Draco drew her to his other side.

Soon the photographer stepped back, his work completed. "This should keep the Prophet happy. I wish you both well."

Ranjit Dibpal now began to take pictures of Hermione and her friends and family, and once he had finished with the now thoroughly irritable group, turned to Draco and his family, putting them through the same process. The pictures of Draco and Hermione seemed to take an age as the photographer shot them in different lights. He also took quite a few pictures of Aurora, and she made the most of it, smiling unselfconsciously into the camera.

Finally, he too, stepped back, and the whole group breathed a sigh of relief.

"Could I have a quick interview?" Rose Zella, who had been watching proceedings, now stepped forward, quill at the ready.

Draco sighed, but nodded. "Please keep it brief," he instructed, and she turned to Hermione.

"Healer, I understand that you won't be adopting your husband's name. Is there a reason for this?" the young woman asked tentatively.

Hermione shrugged. "It's easier for me professionally if I retain my own name."

"And your little girl?" Rose cast a curious look at Aurora, whose attention was fixed on a blue and white-petalled flower by the water's edge.

"She is taking the Malfoy name," Draco answered, smiling.

The reporter nodded and turned to him. "Mr Malfoy, how do you feel about your wife working? I believe that to date, Malfoy brides have never worked."

"Well, I'd hate to stop Hermione working, as long as it doesn't interfere with her role as a mother of course. We're both firm believers in putting our family first, and now that she doesn't have to worry about supporting herself financially, she can devote more time to Aurora, and any future children we may have." He couldn't help adding this last, and glancing at Hermione, saw that her expression was more resigned than annoyed.

"So there will be more children then?" An eager Rose asked.

By now, the group surrounding them were all listening avidly to the conversation, some frowning while others smiled in pleasure.

In the interest of diplomacy, Draco decided to hedge a little. It would never do to annoy Hermione half an hour after their wedding. So far, she was taking things better than he could have hoped, and he didn't want to change that. He could expound on his plans for a family at a later date but for then, it was best to play it safe. "Well now, that's jumping the wand a little. Who knows?" he shrugged.

"But Mr Malfoy, surely you'd like an heir to carry on the family name?"

"Of course, but as I said, it's a little early to be thinking about such things."

Rose shot him a disappointed look, but subsided. Then, taking a deep breath, she plunged in. "Until now, Malfoys have always married girls from all wizarding families, but you've broken with tradition. Why?"

Draco grinned to himself. He had hoped this question would come up. "Simply because I don't believe in all this pureblood nonsense. It was the main reason for the war, the effects of which we can feel to this day, and I certainly don't intend to let such outdated thinking rule my life. I'm sorry that the Malfoy name has been allied with such prejudicial attitudes in the past, but I can assure you that I certainly don't hold with such narrow beliefs." He drew Hermione against him, and bending, kissed her cheek.

"I wish you both a long and happy marriage," Rose beamed, tucking her quill into her pocket. "Thank you both for taking the time to answer the Prophet's questions." She moved away, the surly photographer in tow.

"Thank Merlin that's over," Narcissa said, stepping forward. "Draco, do you want any more photos here?"

"No."

"In that case, I hope you'll all come back to the Manor for tea," Narcissa smiled around at the gathering. Draco saw Potter and Weasley exchange glances, but both nodded, if a little reluctantly.

The group made its way back to the antechamber, Draco's arm draped casually around his wife, while Aurora walked on his other side chatting happily.

"It'll probably be easiest if I travel with Aurora by Floo, or would you like to take her?" he asked Hermione, who shook her head.

"I'd better not." She grimaced and looked down at her robes. "Something tells me it would take ages to get the soot off these, and I'd rather not risk losing the Malfoy diamonds in the Floo network."

"Perfectly understandable. Right, everyone," Draco turned to the people around him, "for those who don't know it, aim for the Apparition chamber of Malfoy Manor, and you should be okay. It's a small room with plain white bricks; easy enough to imagine."

Turning to Aurora, he scooped her up, and taking a fistful of Floo powder from a jar on the mantel piece, threw it into the flames.

"I love going by Floo," the little girl squeaked excitedly against his shoulder. "Is Mummy coming as well?"

"She's going to Apparate. Ready?" Aurora nodded, and Draco stepped into the green flames, arms clamped tightly around her small frame. "Malfoy Manor!" he called, and they were whisked into the maze of the Floo network.

As they slowed down, he stepped with practiced ease out of the hall fireplace of the manor, and looked around him. His mother and Aunt were already there, both beaming.

"I must say, the house elves have done you proud. There's a lovely spread in there." Narcissa indicated the dining room with a nod, holding out her arms for Aurora, who drew back against Draco. "Come on, sweetheart, aren't you going to give Grandma a cuddle?"

Draco suspected that his mother had been looking forward to this moment all day. She had talked endlessly of spending time with the little girl and spoiling her rotten since she had reached England. Glancing into Aurora's face, he saw that she was scowling.

"You're not my Gwandma," the child announced, sticking out her lower lip in a pout.

At that moment, the door of the Apparation chamber opened, and Hermione came out.

"The others are on their way," she said, glancing round. Then her eyes travelled between Aurora's mutinous face, and the expression of hurt Narcissa was trying her best to hide with little success.

Before she could open her mouth however, Aurora burst out, "Mummy, she says she's my Gwandma, but she's not, and I don't want to give her a cuddle, so there!"

Hermione sighed and turned to Narcissa. "I'm really sorry about this, I tried explaining all this to her, but she refused to accept that she has any grandparents other than my parents."

"Do you blame her?" Ron Weasley had pushed open the door of the Apparition chamber and was standing behind Narcissa.

"No one asked for your opinion, Weasley," Draco responded in a tight voice. He would have liked to have said a lot more to the git, but Weasley was a guest, and so he held his tongue.

Ron rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Look, what I meant was you can't blame the kid for behaving as she does. No disrespect meant Mrs Fits-Gerald, but Aurora doesn't know you, and probably thinks that you're trying to take the place of her other grandmother."

"Oh no, I would never presume to-"

"But she's only a child, and she doesn't know that," the redhead explained as though talking to a five-year-old.

"You know, he's got a point, Cissy," Andromeda entered the conversation, eyes thoughtful as they rested on Aurora's scowling face. "She'll accept it in time, but today's already been a big upheaval for her."

Draco hated to admit it, but Weasley was probably right. Reminding himself to tackle the matter when they were alone, he turned to greet the rest of his guests who were filtering in through the Apparition chamber. Narcissa too, had decided to shelve the matter for the time being, and was soon herding people into the large formal dining room, slipping easily into the role of hostess for the occasion.

The room was large, with French windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. The long table that could easily seat fifty people had been removed, and four smaller tables had been placed at one end of the room. A huge buffet made up of delicacies, was laid out on two tables. A third table held a large variety of drinks, while a beautifully decorated wedding cake resembling Hogwarts Castle, complete with turrets and towers, stood in pride of place on the fourth table. The words 'Congratulations to Hermione and Draco on this special day, wishing you a long and fulfilling life together,' were picked out in icing that changed colours every few seconds across the front of the castle.

"Wow, who made the cake?" Harry asked of no one in particular, while staring in awe at the master piece of confectionary.

"Oh, a friend of mine knows a very talented baker in Louisiana," Narcissa informed him. "I got him to make the cake. I must say, I was rather impressed with it."

"We would have liked a cake like that for our wedding," Ginny chimed in sounding wistful, "but the bakery said it was impossible; no matter how many charms you put on it, the towers would still never stand up straight."

"At least it's not some mushy heart shape," Ron said, looking revolted.

Narcissa laughed. "I didn't think a heart-shaped cake would be appreciated somehow, no matter how much I liked the idea."

"I suggested it at Nymphadora's wedding, but she wouldn't hear of it." Andromeda shook her head. "Young people nowadays, no romance, any of you."

"Well now, Hermione, Draco, would you like to do the honours?" Narcissa beamed, as the newly wedded couple stepped forward.

Draco put a wide-eyed Aurora down, and then he and Hermione took hold of the silver cake knife, his fingers wrapped securely around hers, and cut into the cake to loud applause. Soon everyone was holding large plates of the confection and congratulating Narcissa in her choice of baker.

"Please help yourselves," Narcissa smiled around at the company. "The house-elves have been working throughout the night preparing this." What she didn't add, was that she too, had been up most of the night making final arrangements for the day she had looked forward to ever since Draco had graduated from Hogwarts. He doubted if she had had more than three hours sleep since she had arrived the day before.

Talk was stilted as people finished their cake and moved forward to help themselves to food. Hermione's friends had obviously decided to make the best of a bad job, and stood around clutching glasses of wine while looking ill at ease.

Draco felt a tap on his shoulder and found Theodore standing behind him, holding a glass of wine.

"Not bad," he commented, taking a sip, "some of the Malfoy vintage stuff, if I'm not mistaken."

"Well, it's not everyday that I get married."

Theodore nodded, and took another appreciative sip from his glass. "I'm surprised that one of them," he jerked his head towards Harry, Ron and Ginny, "hasn't caused a scene yet. They're not known for their ability to behave like adults."

"Oh, I think they're on their best behaviour," Draco grinned. "No doubt my wife has had a few words with them regarding their conduct."

His friend grunted, his eyes on Aurora's small form as she wended her way to Hermione's side, clutching a large plate of cake. "My, that is one precocious brat," he commented. "Bet she has an awful temper when she gets going, reminds me of someone else I know."

"Oh, who may that be?" Draco raised his eyebrows in assumed perplexity, watching Aurora demolishing her slice of cake with obvious relish.

"I wonder," Theodore grinned. Then, lowering his voice, he continued seriously, "How come you're only marrying Granger now? The child's five isn't she?"

"Simply because until two months ago, I didn't know of her existence, and even then, only found out by pure chance." Draco wasn't surprised that Theodore had put two and two together so swiftly; he would have expected nothing less of his observant and astute friend.

The other man's eyes widened. "But you must have had some idea? I mean, it's not like you to be so irresponsible where such things are concerned. Merlin, I remember how picky you were at school about bed partners. The steps you took to ensure there were never any consequences make me smile even now."

Ignoring Theodore's teasing, Draco shrugged. "Unfortunately, both fate and Hermione had other ideas." He knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn't help it.

"But how did Granger get away with it? I mean, no self-respecting witch would have a child out of wedlock, and she's not unknown to the public by any means. She would have needed your help surely."

"In the Muggle world, such things are accepted as the norm. She had a lot of help; the Weasleys and her parents babysat Aurora while she was at work. When Aurora joined my Aunt's nursery, they told everyone that Hermione had married and that he'd died in the war. Merlin only knows we lost enough people in that war, and everyone swallowed it."

"That's harsh, not seeing your own flesh and blood grow up." Theodore gave him a sympathetic glance. "I can't imagine not having watched my two during babyhood, and nothing can replace that. It's never plain sailing, especially when they're yelling their heads off in the middle of the night for no apparent reason while all you want to do is sleep, but it's worth every bit of it when they smile and coo at you, or take their first tottering step." His normally expressionless face had lit up, and Draco felt a pang of envy.

"You're telling me. I thought I'd go mad with rage when I found out."

"What did Granger have to say about it?"

"If it were left to her, I would have never known of Aurora's existence. It took every bit of manipulation I possess, and then some, to get her to agree to the marriage."

"Bloody hell, the woman's nuts. If it were me, I would have taken her to court over this."

Taking a glass of wine from a nearby table, Draco stared down into its clear depths. "I thought about it, but what would have been the point? There would have been endless scandal and Aurora would have suffered more than either of us."

"Plus the fact that you still fancy Granger, and a court battle wouldn't have been conducive to getting her into bed." Theodore smirked knowingly.

"There is that as well."

The other wizard looked across the room to where Hermione stood chatting to his stepfather, an arm draped over Aurora's shoulders. "Hmm, but you don't exactly strike me as the loving couple. If anything, I'd say Granger was going through with this under duress."

Draco shrugged again. "Let's put it this way - she's only recently realised what her being single will mean for Aurora, and didn't like the reality. If there's one thing I can't fault her on, it's her love for our child."

"So she opted for the security of marriage? That's convenient for you."

"Isn't it just."

The sound of the clearing of a throat behind them, made both men turn round to find John Granger watching them.

"Forgive the interruption, but could I please have a quick word?" the older man addressed Draco in a low voice. Theodore melted into the crowd, leaving them alone.

"Of course, let's walk in the rose garden," Draco responded, putting down his empty wine glass. He had expected this, and was prepared. Turning, he led the way out of the room onto the terrace that led down into the rose garden.

It was quiet there, the stillness broken by the busy droning of bees as they moved from flower to flower. The roses were in bloom, a riot of colours, the bushes clipped neatly back to reveal the full beauty of each flower.

"A charming garden; you must have some rare varieties here," John commented, looking around with interest.

"Yes, Father cultivated most of these. I don't know much about them myself, but keep the garden up as it's a nice place to sit and unwind."

"This house is very nice - has it been in your family long?"

"For the last two hundred or so years," Draco answered as they moved to sit on a bench fronting a sundial.

His father-in-law sighed and came straight to the point. "Look, I can't pretend I'm happy about this marriage. It's a recipe for disaster if you ask me."

"Why so?" Draco asked composedly. The man had wasted no time in saying what he thought; he must feel strongly about this.

"Heavens, boy, you can barely tolerate each other. When Hermione told us that you intended to marry, I couldn't believe my ears. This business of children from single families not being accepted in the wizarding world, I can't believe is so bad that you need to resort to marriage!"

"Mr Granger, I understand what you're saying, but-" Draco began, but was cut off.

"I can understand that you want to see Aurora grow up, she's a lovely child, and you want to be part of her life. But how about my girl? What of her?" John fixed him with a stony look, which Draco met calmly.

"Hermione? What about her?" he asked, confused.

"Well, you married her so as to have full access to Aurora; Hermione was quite candid about that. But what does Hermione get out of all this?"

The older man ran his fingers through his hair as he spoke, and Draco realised that he was a lot more worried than he was letting on. It was surprising really that he had not done something to try and hinder the ceremony. Draco knew that for peace's sake, he would have to at least try and put the man's mind at rest.

"Believe it or not Mr Granger, I care very deeply for Hermione. It's unfortunate how things turned out. In all innocence, I would have expected her to contact me as soon as she realised she was pregnant. I would have been more than happy to have married her then and there, but she didn't. I didn't know of Aurora's existence until two months ago, after which time I did everything in my power to make it up to both of them." He looked into the other man's eyes, willing him to believe him.

"Surely you didn't expect her to contact you? I mean…well…" John broke off, but Draco didn't need him to finish his sentence.

"I'm sure Hermione's told you that the potion she mistook for a date rape potion was nothing more than a standard calming draft which can be bought from any apothecary," he countered calmly.

John nodded. "Yes, she did explain. But I still don't understand why you felt the need to use it."

There was a silence as Draco thought about this. He was tempted to change the subject, but instinct warned him to tell the truth, well at least some of it, to this man. He could prove to be a useful ally in the uphill struggle he would have with his wife regarding certain matters.

He leaned forward, his expression earnest. "To be honest, I just wanted her to give me a chance. At school and beyond, Weasley and Potter made sure that I didn't get within fifteen feet of her, and what chance I did have, was often taken away by her own attitude. During the party, all I intended to do was get her to relax enough, so she would let go of some of that prejudice so that we might have a decent conversation that didn't involve taunts or sneers."

"I see." John was looking at him with a slight frown, eyes narrowed in thought. "So things didn't go as you had expected them to at the party then?"

"Well, the drink was flowing freely," was Draco's evasive response, but John nodded.

"Tell me," he began, "if Hermione had come from a pureblood family, what would their reaction have been to an unplanned pregnancy such as hers?"

"Well now, it would have depended largely on whether she was married. There are only two options open to single witches; either marry the father, or if that's out of the question, terminate the pregnancy." Draco replied bluntly, sitting back and watching the older man's reaction; he was not disappointed.

"But surely that can't be right…I mean the taking of a human life in such a way is comparable to murder. It isn't the child's fault it was conceived out of wedlock, so why should it suffer?" John retorted in a horrified voice.

"Not many do suffer that fate - fear of society's scorn stops witches from getting themselves into such a position."

"So it was Hermione's Muggle background that saved her?" John asked, slightly incredulous.

Draco nodded. "Yes, it's only now that Aurora's joined the wizarding world that the problem has come up." He sighed to himself; in his opinion, Muggle customs, a factor he had not considered, had been to blame for his prolonged separation from his wife and daughter, were a pain in the neck.

"We weren't happy when Hermione told us she was pregnant; in fact, I was extremely disappointed with her for not knowing better, but we'd never abandon her or force her to terminate the pregnancy." John shuddered in revulsion.

"That's the difference between the wizarding and Muggle worlds; we're a lot less tolerant of such things than you are. I'm not saying it's right, but to get anywhere in the wizarding world, you have to conform to its rules."

"Hence the reason for the marriage," the older man replied dryly.

"Mr Granger, please believe that I'll do everything in my power to make Hermione and Aurora happy," Draco said, his eyes never leaving the other man's face. John returned his look, and for a moment, there was silence. Then he nodded.

"You know, I believe you will. I'm glad we've cleared the air; I feel a lot better about this marriage now," he smiled wanly. "I can't say that I approve of either of your reasons for going through with this, especially Hermione's, but at least now I know the main reason why."

Draco smiled in relief. He understood only too well what the other man was getting at. Hermione had made it clear that she was going through with this marriage for Aurora's sake alone. At least he could honestly say that he intended to make a go of it, in every sense of the word, but his wife's sentiment's on the matter were not so broad - a fact that her perceptive father had not failed to notice.

"I'm glad; it will certainly help. We'd better go back or they'll start wondering where we are."

"I suppose so."

They got up and made their leisurely way back into the dining room to be met by an anxious Hermione.

"There you are. I was starting to get worried." She glanced between them and frowned. "Where were you and why did you disappear off like that?"

John rolled his eyes and turned to Draco. "Women, you can't get any peace from them. Are you sure you know what you've let yourself in for?"

"Gwandad, Daddy, where were you? We were looking for you," Aurora stood before them, frowning as she stared from one to the other.

John grinned. "I rest my case!"

Draco returned his smile. "Oh, I think so."

"Draco, Harry and Ginny are leaving," Hermione said, taking his arm and leading him over to the other couple who were chatting enthusiastically to Steven Fits-Gerald and Ted Tonks about Quidditch.

"Ah, Malfoy, there you are." Harry stepped forward. "We've got to go but thought we'd say goodbye before we left."

"Thanks for coming," Draco replied in a stilted voice. He noticed that Potter had not wished them luck, but then there was nothing new about that.

"Well, we couldn't miss Hermione's wedding, now could we?" Ginny frowned. "We'll speak to you soon, Hermione, take care." Then turning to Aurora, she hugged her too. "I want to hear that you've been on your best behaviour, Minx."

Aurora smiled back innocently, a look which fooled none of them. "Of course Auntie!"

They all moved out into the hall, and Harry smiled at his long time friend. "You know where we are if you need us." Both hugged Hermione and Aurora tightly before entering the Apparition chamber, and with loud cracks, Disapparated.

"Hermione, I'm off too. Take care of yourself okay?" Ron hugged Hermione and Aurora and nodded stiffly at Draco before moving to the Apparition chamber while waving.

"Why is it that everyone decides to leave in one go?" Hermione asked as Ron disappeared.

"I suppose they were all waiting for someone to make the first move."

The words were no sooner out of Draco's mouth before the Grangers and Tonks's came into the hallway.

"Hermione darling, we too, will have to head home. I have to start baking for tomorrow's church fete." Mrs Granger hugged her daughter. "I wish you both the best of luck, and hope to see you soon. She shook hands with Draco. "It's been lovely meeting you, my dear, I wish you both a happy and fulfilled marriage."

"Thank you, Mrs Granger. I look forward to getting to know you better." Here at least was one of Hermione's family who seemed happy for them.

"Bye Gwanma," Aurora chipped in.

"There's no need for all this formality, you're part of the family now," John said to Draco while ruffling Aurora's curls. "You be good now, young lady!" Then to Draco he said, "The best of luck to you lad; you'll need it with these two." He indicated his daughter and granddaughter with a smile.

"Now, Dad," Hermione interjected, "that's not very nice."

Smiling, the Grangers said their goodbyes and left using the Floo, both waving as the green flames whipped them out of sight.

"I'm so happy for you." Andromeda now stepped forward. "Best of luck to you both."

Ted smiled at Hermione, and clapped Draco on the shoulder. "You must both come round for lunch sometime soon."

The Tonks's said their farewells and were soon gone, leaving the newly married couple and Aurora standing in the hall.

"Well now, shall I show you your rooms?" Draco asked watching the nervous expressions that passed between mother and daughter.

"Yes, of course," Hermione replied stiffly.

"Right then, let's go." Taking Aurora's free hand, he led them up the handsome curving staircase of the manor onto the first floor.

"Aurora's room is opposite the master suite," he explained as he led them down a broad corridor. "Here we are!" He threw open the door to a spacious room, done out in bright yellows and reds. The large windows had wide-padded window seats, and looked out onto the velvety lawns of the manor. The curtains of the four-poster bed were drawn back, revealing pictures of the characters of the Shiny Show on the duvet. Through an open door, they could see the bathroom, the silver of the taps glinting in the early evening sunlight.

Fitted wardrobes lined another side of the room, and seeing Hermione's gaze on them, he informed them, "Your luggage has already been unpacked."

He didn't add that he intended to discard the clothes they had bought with them and have them fitted out with the best money could buy. That piece of information could wait for later.

Aurora let out a loud squeal and jumped on to the bed with glee. "Wow, it's massive!" she exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the mattress.

"Aurora, stop that," Hermione admonished with a frown.

"Do you like it, Princess?" Draco asked eagerly, trying not to smile at her antics.

"Oh yes, it's bwilliant. It's much better than the bedroom Uncle Harry and Aunty Ginny are getting weady for their baby!"

"That's because you don't like the same things the baby will," her mother explained, hauling her off the bed and straightening the rumpled duvet as well as the child's robes, which had become wrinkled.

"I hate wobes!" she glowered and pulled away. "I wanted to wear twousers but-."

"Let's not start that now!" Hermione cut her off briskly.

"Would you like to see your room now, Hermione?" Draco asked with amusement.

Aurora's attention was diverted and she turned to him. "Oh yes, let's see Mummy's woom now."

He led them across the corridor and pushed open another door. The room in to which he ushered them was large and decorated in cream and blue. Fitted wardrobes lined one wall, and the open door beside them showed a bathroom. The door opposite was closed, and the two females glanced towards it.

"Where does that go to?" Aurora asked curiously, indicating the door with a jerk of her head.

"It leads into my room," Draco answered calmly, walking across the thick Persian carpet and opening it.

"Why do you have wooms next to each other?" she asked.

"Because that's what Mummies and Daddies do," he replied.

Aurora frowned for a moment, but then shrugged and turned to her mother. "It's lovely, Mummy," she said, wandering across to the windows and gazing out.

"If there's something you'd like to change, please feel free." Draco smiled at Hermione as he spoke.

"Thanks, but it's really nice as it is. The only thing is, there doesn't seem to be anywhere I can use to store books. I suppose I could convert one of the wardrobes into a bookcase…" The comment was hesitant, and she bit her lip in thought, eyes skimming around the room for other places she could install shelves.

He laughed. "Hermione, trust you to think of books. I've set aside a room on this floor as your private study. You can cram as many volumes as you like in there."

XoXoXoXo

Silently, Draco closed Aurora's bedroom door and walked back to his own room, a smile on his lips. The house was quiet, everyone having retired to their own rooms. Dinner had been over three hours ago, and Aurora, tired out from the excitement of the day, had fallen asleep during the second course. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was 10:30. He wondered if Hermione was still awake, and after a moment of hesitation, walked across to the communicating door. A move of his wand later, he pushed it open.

Hermione was sitting at the small writing desk in the corner, but turned swiftly at his entrance. "What do you want?" she asked, standing up and facing him.

"I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed," he drawled, shutting the door behind him and advancing into the room. "I've just checked on Aurora and she's sound asleep."

"She's worn out from the excitement of the day."

Draco smiled, and sauntering across to the desk and glancing around, asked, "So, were you surprised at the outcome of the ceremony?" He was of course referring to the colours displayed by the glowing runes.

She took her time answering. "Well, not the grey or even the blue; they were to be expected, but the gold…"

"Hmm, yes, the gold… It was rather beautiful, was it not?"

She nodded.

"A surprising turn of events. Who would have thought that this marriage had the potential for real happiness and satisfaction for us?" He gazed at her as he spoke.

She sighed deeply. "Look, do you mind if we discuss this tomorrow? I'm exhausted."

"Of course, Hermione." He moved across the room and put his arms round her. "Good night, sleep well." Bending, he kissed her cheek before turning and exiting the room.

Once back in his own room, he moved to the windows and gazed out at the starry sky and the rising half moon, contemplating the events of the day, a smile of satisfaction playing about his mouth.

Things had gone better than he had dared hope. His daughter was finally where she belonged, and he was legally married to her mother! He thought back to the Rune Proclamation and how they had glowed gold. None of Hermione's friends had been pleased about that, but then why should they? He was well aware that they had hoped that they would turn black, the colour of despair and failure, and thereby provide a reason for the immediate annulment of the marriage. It wouldn't have been the first marriage to be annulled in this way by any means, and would certainly not be the last, as it was a regular practice for those marriages in which the runes glowed black.

His eyes fell on the communicating door between his and Hermione's rooms and he scowled. By rights, he should be in there with her, consummating their marriage, but he wasn't, at least not yet. However, he had plans, and swore to himself that soon, he would have all that he was entitled to, and more. Now that the runes had showed him the potential for this marriage, he would enjoy even more, the fruits of his labours.


	13. Chapter 12

Authors Note: Finally here it is. The delay was mainly due to my workload which increased tenfold over the last few months. Thanks as always to my beta who had to edit this as well as juggle other commitments, and to Cat for letting me borrow the name of her cat.

Chapter Twelve

The sound of her wand vibrating against the wood of the bedside table made Hermione stir and open protesting eyes to stare round her in momentary confusion. Then, memory returning, she looked around her spacious room at Malfoy Manor while blinking the sleep from her eyes. The wand vibrated again but years of conditioning had her wide awake and swinging her feet to the floor. Aurora must be awake and crying.

Hastily pulling on her dressing gown, she hurried to the door and pulled it open. She hoped that no one else had heard the child cry out and moved swiftly on bare feet across the dimly lit corridor and pushed open the door to Aurora's bedroom.

The room was lit by a nightlight sitting on the bedside table, illuminating her daughter's pale, frightened face as she sat staring wide-eyed around her. Aurora was clutching a well-loved, battered teddy bear almost as old as she, and trying not to cry.

"Mummy? Mummy, where are you?" Tears glinted in the child's eyes as she huddled further into the bedclothes, searching the large shadowy room for her mother.

"I'm here, darling. What's wrong?" Hermione sat down on the side of the bed, and immediately, Aurora crawled into her lap, burying her face against Hermione's shoulder.

"Mummy, I don't like it here, I want to-"

"Shh, baby, it's okay. Hush now or everyone'll wake up," Hermione soothed, rocking the small figure in her arms and wiping away the child's tears.

Aurora clung to her, small body trembling. "I don't like it on my own, I want to sleep with you," she said, looking pleadingly into her mother's face.

"Of course you can sleep with me, darling, but I would have thought you'd want to stay in your nice new room," Hermione coaxed gently. She was tempted to take Aurora back to her own room, but knew this would be but a temporary solution to the problem. This was their third night in the Manor, and for the last two, Aurora, exhausted by the excitement of the day, had slept right through the night.

"No, I want to be with you, like before. Mummy, I don't like it now!" the child insisted tearfully, arms clamped tightly round Hermione's neck.

Behind them the bedroom door was pushed open, and Draco, wearing a dressing gown, entered the room, making both females start with surprise. Turning with difficulty to face him, Hermione saw that he too, looked as though he'd jumped out of bed in a hurry. His blond hair was dishevelled, and he still looked half asleep as he came to sit beside her, stifling a yawn.

"I hope we didn't wake you," she said stiffly, conscious of the flimsy dressing gown that clung to her like a second skin and barely covered her knees. She wished she'd taken time to put on something slightly more substantial, and defensively drew Aurora closer against her.

"Not in the least. I charmed my wand so it would alert me when Aurora woke up." Leaning forward, he wiped a tear from the little girl's cheek with his thumb. "What's wrong, Princess?" he asked with concern.

Aurora scowled and turned away from him. "Nothing," she replied, not looking at him, instead pressing her face into her mother's shoulder.

Hermione saw a look of hurt pass swiftly over his face, to be masked with a bland expression. "She must have had a nightmare and is a bit edgy," she explained gently. "It's impossible to reason with her in this mood; she's overtired, aren't you?" She smiled down at her scowling daughter in an effort to break the tension that had sprung up in the room.

Aurora didn't return her smile, but turning, glared at Draco. "Go away! "

"Aurora!" Hermione remonstrated automatically, but the child ignored her.

"I don't want you, I want Mummy! Go away!"

Draco drew back as though stung. "But Angel-" he tried but was cut off.

"I want to go home and…and–" She broke off and began to cry in loud gulping sobs, burying her face against Hermione once more.

He frowned, looking bewildered and hurt, and Hermione felt a dart of sympathy for him go through her. No matter what she might think of him, he was trying to do his best for Aurora. Never having encountered a fractious four year old, he was learning the hard way that parent/child relationships were a lot more complex than they seemed on the surface. "Take it with a pinch of salt," she advised, putting a hand on his arm. "She's overwrought and tired. She'll be fine in the morning."

Leaning forward, he made to draw Aurora into his embrace, but she squealed and pulled back. "Go away! I don't want you, Mummy, make him go away!"

"I don't know what I've done to make her behave like this towards me. She was fine earlier," he said in a dejected voice, turning to Hermione.

"Don't worry about it; she'll be fine after a good night's sleep. You'd better go while I get her settled for the night." She gave him a sympathetic smile he did not return. Instead, he sighed, and getting up, left the room.

It took Hermione a while to calm Aurora down, but finally the child fell asleep, curled up against her. She lay in the dim room listening to her daughter's even breathing and sighed to herself. She wasn't surprised at the night's events; if anything, Aurora had held out longer than she had expected.

The last two days had been full of people coming round and congratulating her and Draco on their marriage. Some comprised of Steven Fits-Gerald's family, who had travelled from America to wish them well, and business associates of Draco's from all over Europe and the States. This was not to mention Narcissa's friends, both British and American, who had called to 'pay their respects'. She knew that curiosity more than anything else about both her and Aurora had induced these people to travel to England to convey their best wishes. So much for a quiet wedding. The day itself had indeed been quiet, just their families and friends, but the next day, people had descended upon them like an avalanche, their curiosity fuelled by the photos of the wedding published in the Daily Prophet and other British newspapers and magazines.

She supposed she should have expected the interest and curiosity of the wizarding population, but had been unable to think past the wedding itself and all the complications it presented on both a physical and emotional level. She smiled to herself, remembering the look of horror on Draco's face when the first guests had arrived. He had swiftly recovered from the surprise and spent the next two days playing the perfect host. Narcissa had not been surprised in the least. In fact, she had been the one person who had calmly accepted the situation and slipped effortlessly into the role of hostess, revelling in the chance to show both Aurora and Hermione off to the world.

Aurora, never a shy child, had at first enjoyed all the extra fuss and attention as long as one of her parents was in sight, but as the second day had worn on, had clung to her mother. Hermione was not surprised in the least at tonight's outburst, and wondered again how Draco was feeling. She would try and explain the reason to him in the morning; the poor man deserved at least that much. So resolved, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

XoXoXoXo

"I am absolutely exhausted," Narcissa smiled at the other occupants of the breakfast table. "Thank Merlin the days for visiting are over; I don't think I could have stood another one."

"I honestly didn't think they'd rely on such an outdated custom," Draco grumbled, scowling. "This is the twenty-first century for Merlin's sake, not the Middle Ages!"

Hermione blinked in surprise. Yesterday he had been more than happy to play the affable host, chatting amicably to anyone who called, including Ron and Harry, who had dropped in during the afternoon, but today he was like a bear with a saw head. She wondered what had brought about the change.

"They obviously thought that we'd prefer to keep to tradition. That's understandable, the Malfoys being such an old family," Narcissa replied with evident pride in her voice, ignoring her son's scowl.

"Hmph," was Draco's only answer, and he disappeared behind the morning's Daily Prophet.

"As you say Narcissa, it's over now," Hermione put in quietly, buttering a slice of toast for Aurora and pouring herself a cup of fragrant coffee, causing Draco's frown to deepen over the pages of the newspaper.

Reaching forward, he took a slice of toast from the rack in the centre of the table, buttered it, and placed it on Hermione's plate, his eyes steely.

Immediately, Aurora, who was seated between them, and had remained silent until now, piped up, "Oh no, Daddy, Mummy never eats breakfast. She doesn't have time."

"Ah, but we need Mummy to keep her strength up, don't we? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so we all have to eat it!" Draco smiled at the little girl, his black mood lifting for a moment, and she nodded. His eyes then rested briefly on Hermione, their expression grim.

She decided that it would be prudent not to argue, and so began to eat the toast. She had never before had much time for breakfast. Getting Aurora ready for nursery and herself for work, on top of doing various chores before leaving the flat, meant she rarely had time to grab a cup of coffee, let alone breakfast. She had become used to not eating before midday and felt slightly queasy as she chewed the toast. However, Draco was in a very strange mood and she didn't want to aggravate it more than she had to.

Her mind went back over the last two days and she frowned in thought. Visiting Days as they were known were two days in which the newly-wedded couple's acquaintances could pay their respects and pass on their best wishes for the couple's happiness and health. They had originally been meant for landowners whose tenants would be expected to meet the new mistress of the estate and pay their respects. Hermione knew that these days, not many witches and wizards adhered to the practice, most couples leaving for their honeymoon straight after the wedding reception. Her marriage however, was not one which would be termed 'normal', and so a honeymoon was out of the question. She supposed being so well-known, people couldn't resist paying them a visit.

"Will all the people come again today?" Aurora asked, looking up from her breakfast. The tantrum of the night before was forgotten as she turned towards her father.

"No, Angel!" Draco's bright smile was back as he surveyed the child. Then in an undertone, he added, "At least, they'd better not!"

"Harry and Ginny had Visiting Days after their wedding. They said it was a good way of getting boring formalities over with in one go." Hermione smiled at the recollection, as with difficulty, she finished her toast.

"Yesterday, you said the exact same thing, Draco. What's changed your mind?" his mother asked mildly, taking a sip of her own coffee.

Draco scowled again over the pages of the Daily Prophet. "A person can change their mind, can they not?" he drawled. "Originally I thought it was a good idea, but now all it's achieved is bad tempers and disharmony!"

Hermione felt her heart sink. So that was what Draco's bad mood was about; she should have guessed. He was still angry about Aurora's rejection of him the night before.

Narcissa simply shrugged and continued drinking her coffee. She had clearly had experience with Draco's moods before, and was not going to rise to the bait. Instead, she changed the subject smoothly. "What are your plans for today?"

Hermione, glad for the change of topic, put down her own coffee cup. "Well, I have to sort some things out at the flat; just odds and ends you know. I plan to get it over with this afternoon."

"I thought we might do some shopping this morning," Draco intervened smoothly. "If that's okay with you of course, Hermione. Can the sorting of the flat be put off for another day maybe?"

She nodded, unsurprised at his plans, knowing instinctively that he'd want to buy Aurora and herself clothes and things which befitted people of his family. She had never really considered clothes in any detail over the last few years, other than to consider whether they were practical and serviceable. She had made more effort with Aurora's wardrobe, always on the look out for good bargains in the large Muggle department stores. Now, however, even though her short-sleeved cotton dress was perfectly acceptable and fashionable, she felt scruffy beside Narcissa's cool elegance. She doubted that Aurora had fared much better in his view, even though her outfit was one of Gap's latest creations. So much for the shopping spree she and her mother had gone on before the wedding to equip them with new clothes. No doubt Draco intended to buy both her and Aurora new wardrobes, probably the best that money could buy.

Draco smiled. "Would you like to join us, Mother?"

"Well, if I wouldn't be in the way, it would be lovely." Narcissa's eyes flicked to Aurora, the longing in them evident.

The little girl had warmed slightly to her over the last two days, but still was hesitant to spend any length of time in her company alone. Hermione could see how much this hurt the older woman, and hoped that as her planned stay of two weeks wore on, Aurora would lose some of her initial wariness and accept her.

Aurora now asked, "What are we going to buy?"

"Oh, lots of things. Clothes and things like that." Draco drew her to her feet and grinned while brushing toast crumbs off her top.

Hermione was relieved to see that she didn't pull away from him, but taking his hand, walked across the room with him happily enough, Narcissa following them, wearing a disconsolate expression.

"But we don't need clothes and stuff," Aurora protested as they went into the hall. "Mummy bought lots of new clothes for both of us last week and she said it cost a lot of money!"

Hermione felt her face start to burn as she climbed the stairs ahead of her chattering daughter, wondering how to put a stop to the conversation.

"Oh?" Draco's question was casual behind her, but she didn't miss the note of curiosity underlying it.

"Yes, and she said that you should have no weason to moan about our clothes because they were decent."

Reaching the top of the stairs, Hermione turned and took Aurora firmly by the hand. "We'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes or so," she said swiftly, not meeting Draco's amused gaze. "Is that okay?" To nods of agreement from the others, she steered Aurora firmly into her room, her colour still high.

She spent the next ten minutes getting her excitable daughter and herself ready for the shopping expedition with mixed feelings. Part of her was looking forward to getting away from the Manor for a while, but another part was wondering whether it was wise to accompany Draco on this shopping trip. Then shrugging, she told herself to stop worrying and simply enjoy herself for once. She would deal with any problems when and if they arose.

Soon both were ready and making their way downstairs to where Narcissa and Draco were waiting.

"Are we going to go by Floo?" Aurora asked eagerly, moving towards the large ornate hall fireplace.

"You and I will use the Floo, and Mummy and Grandma can Apparate. How's that?" Draco swung her up in his arms as he spoke.

"Bwilliant!" she squealed excitedly, grinning at her mother over his shoulder.

"Right then, we'll meet you on the ground floor of Harrods, at the entrance of the food hall," Draco said to the two women before scooping up a fist full of Floo powder and throwing it into the flames.

"What? Harrods?" Hermione spluttered, completely taken aback. "But I thought we were going to Diagon Alley!"

It was Narcissa who answered. "Well, dear, don't you want Muggle clothing? Harrods is the only place to get anything decent that's reachable by Floo."

"Yes, but I wasn't aware they catered for wizards," Hermione said haltingly. "The few times I've been there I've never seen a fireplace or Floo powder."

"They do have a small collection of robes but it's not particularly inspiring. No, we'll get wizarding wear from Diagon Alley; much more choice and the latest fashions. As for the Floo, it's only visible to wizards, if they look for it that is," Narcissa explained. "The Malfoys have always had an account with Harrods, although it wasn't used much during my former husband's lifetime."

"There's a small alley by the side of Harrods you can use to Apparate," Draco told her, hefting Aurora more securely into his arms. Then he stepped into the green flames, Aurora clinging tightly to him, and they disappeared from view.

"Well we'd better go as well or Draco will start grumbling again." Narcissa moved towards the Apparition chamber as she spoke. "Now aim for a small alley with high brick walls but from which the sign for Harrods can be seen clearly to the left." With a small pop, she vanished.

Squaring her shoulders, Hermione concentrated on the alley, still bemused that Harrods provided for wizards as well as Muggles, but more surprised that the Malfoys of all people patronised the well-known Muggle department store. Then clearing her mind, she too Disapparated.

XoXoXoXo

The flat was silent when Hermione entered it, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she shut the front door behind her and flopped down on the sofa in the sitting room. It was good to be back in the place that had been her home for the last five years, and held some of her dearest memories. She looked round the room, now bare of the photographs that had jostled for space on the mantel piece, and which now sat in a neat row on her dressing table at Malfoy Manor. There was an unlived-in air about it, even though they had been gone less than a week.

She sat back, and kicking off her shoes, tugged off the slim platinum wedding band adorning the ring finger of her left hand, and looked down at it nestling in her palm. Never having worn rings for any length of time before, she could not get used to the feel of the clinging piece of metal and removed it whenever she was alone. She certainly had no intention of wearing the ring while at work, whatever Draco may say. The ring had symbols engraved around it, and she wondered what these meant. Maybe one day she'd look them up. Her thoughts went back to the day before and she grimaced.

She and Narcissa had met Draco and Aurora outside the famous food hall of Harrods and they had proceeded upstairs to ladies' fashions. There they had met two young women, staff members who turned out to be witches dressed as Muggles. They had lead the family to a small side room, furnished with comfortable sofas and had swiftly taken both her and Aurora's measurements. They had then brought in armfuls of clothes, displaying them for their inspection. There had been every kind of outfit a woman could imagine, and Draco and Narcissa had taken no time in picking out things they thought would suit her.

Her protests had gone unheeded and finally she had given up, knowing it would be futile to argue with them. Within two hours, Hermione had been provided with a wardrobe which would be the envy of any young witch. They had selected over fifty outfits between them, ranging from the extremely casual to the very formal. She had been told that the clothes would be altered to fit her and had no doubt of this fact. They had then proceeded to do the same for Aurora, and this time she had not protested, instead helping them to select things which she thought would suit her daughter's colouring.

She and Narcissa had then been taken to the lingerie and footwear departments, and she had selected shoes and underclothes to go with some of her outfits. Finally they had left Harrods, and Hermione's head had been spinning. Draco and Narcissa however, had been utterly calm as they dined in a popular restaurant in Diagon Alley before taking her and Aurora to various wizarding shops selling robes, shoes, and to Hermione's discomfort, lingerie. In each, they had been kitted out with the best that gold could buy. She had been more than ready to return to the manor afterwards, and they had spent the evening quietly, too exhausted to do much other than read and watch TV.

Glancing at the bookcase, she reminded herself that she needed to find out more about the Rune Proclamation and exactly what the colours had meant, especially the gold, when she had the time. Hogwarts library would no doubt contain a book on the subject, and maybe she could go there in the next day or so.

She got up and stretched. Sitting around wouldn't get the flat sorted out, and she had left Aurora with Draco for the afternoon. Dropping the ring onto a side table, she began to sort through the drawers of the desk. Soon she was busy sorting out piles of paper, books, and other items, discarding those which could be got rid of and packing away with a flick of her wand, those she wanted to keep. Turning to the bookcase, she began to systematically pack all the books on it into cardboard boxes, sneezing as she reached to the back of the deep shelves to retrieve dusty reference books she rarely used. Most of these would go into her study in the manor, a room she had barely looked at since she had moved in.

She finished quickly and moved over to the large entertainment cabinet which housed the TV, the combined DVD/video recorder, plus the HiFi system. She began to pack all her and Aurora's videos, DVDs, and CDs. She decided to put dust covers over the electrical equipment, thinking that it would come in use to her tenants.

She was just putting the last cover over the TV when the doorbell pealed in the empty flat, making her jump. Lifting her head, she was tempted to ignore the summons, let whoever it was go away and leave her to get on with things. She was far too busy to entertain someone, but the bell pealed again, longer this time. Throwing down the dust cover, she picked her way through the boxes into the hall. Then with an irritated sigh, she pulled open the front door and stopped.

Draco stood on the threshold; his eyes amused as they roamed over her dust-covered clothes and flushed cheeks. She knew there was a streak of grime on her cheek, and her hair looked as though a bird had recently nested in it.

"What?" she asked in a testy voice, while colour flowed in a crimson wave into her cheeks.

"May I come in?" he smiled down at her. "You've been gone for the past two hours; I thought I'd see if you wanted any help."

"Where's Aurora?" She moved aside to let him in, wishing that she'd at least tidied her hair before opening the door.

"I left her with Mother. They were discussing the possibility of getting a kitten and hardly noticed my leaving. Talking about cats, where's that cat you used to have at school?"

"Crookshanks died. I've never got around to getting another cat." She felt faintly annoyed that he had followed her here, almost as though he wanted to check up on her, although why, was a mystery to her.

"I can guarantee that she'll have one by the time we get back." Draco smiled as he moved further into the flat. "Blimey, what have you been doing in here? There're things everywhere." He surveyed the piled up boxes with a raised brow.

"I've been sorting stuff out, as I said. I hadn't realised how much there was to get through. I'm almost finished in here though." She picked her way through the boxes back to the entertainment cabinet.

"Can I do anything to help?" he asked, moving further into the room.

"Could you reduce the size of these boxes? I'd like to take them back with us." She waved her hand at the boxes strewn to one side of the French windows. Now that he was here, she might as well make use of him. "The rest is stuff that has to be thrown away."

He nodded and got to work shrinking the boxes and putting them into his pocket.

Soon she had finished in the sitting room and moved into Aurora's room, Draco following her. She was glad that she had sorted out most of the stuff in the bedrooms before they had left, especially that which held sentimental value. Swiftly, she packed up the child's old clothes and other odds and ends, and soon the room was impersonal, stripped of everything that identified it as Aurora's.

"I've decided to rent the flat," she told Draco as she stripped the bed. Now was as good a time as any to drop the bombshell she knew he wouldn't like.

"Oh?" He lifted a pale brow in enquiry. "Why's that?"

"Well, it'll ensure that the flat doesn't stay empty. Now it's just a case of getting tenants. I thought it would be ideal for a young couple." She moved past him into her own room as she spoke, conscious of the frown that creased his forehead.

"Why not sell it? That way you'll be rid of it for good. Tenants are a lot of hassle Hermione, as well as a risk. A rotten tenant could decrease the value of the flat due to damage and neglect."

"I've spent the last five years of my life here," she replied, starting to go through her dressing table drawers. "I'm very attached to it and don't want to consider selling. Anyway, you never know, one day it may come in use."

"In use, how? Hermione, you won't need this place again. What's the point in hanging on to it?"

She shrugged in reply, knowing they would never see eye to eye on the matter. To her, the flat represented security of a type that he would never understand. The income provided by the rent was money she intended to save up for a rainy day. "Maybe not, but it's still mine and I'd like to hang on to it for the time being. I may sell it later on if the duties of a landlady become arduous," she dismissed casually.

Turning to the wardrobe, she packed up the last of her clothes then eyed the topmost shelf, on which sat a large sealed plastic box. She hesitated, unwilling to lift it down in front of Draco or draw his attention to it.

Noticing her hesitation, he moved to stand beside her. "Shall I lift that down for you?" Not waiting for a response, he lifted the large crate down and deposited it on to the bed. "What's in here?"

"Oh, not much, just a few papers and things," she said evasively. "Leave it here; I'll deal with it later."

"I'll shrink it and put it with the other stuff then," he said, pointing his wand at the box, but she grabbed his arm to stop him.

"No, don't." She moved to stand in front of the box. "As I said, I'll deal with it once I've finished sorting everything else out."

"Hermione, what's in there?" Draco's curiosity was aroused as he eyed the box. "What's so precious that you don't want it shrunk?"

"Nothing much; just a few odds and ends that don't belong anywhere else." She could tell by his expression that he wasn't convinced as he eyed the crate. The box contained things that she held most dear; mementoes of Aurora's babyhood that she would treasure as long as she lived. She knew that she should have removed it beforehand, and berated herself silently for not doing so. But then she hadn't expected Draco to be here, not wanting to reveal its contents to him yet, having planned to go through them this afternoon without any onlookers before taking the box to the manor.

Ignoring her words, he pointed his wand at the lid of the box and it flew off. He drew in a deep breath as he gazed down into it. "Oh, Hermione! Wow, Oh my…Merlin! I didn't know you had such a treasure trove here!"

"Most people collect such things," she said stiffly, indicating the boxes contents. "I'll transport this as it is."

"May I see what's in there? Please, Hermione?"

His expression held such pleading as he looked at her that she didn't have the heart to refuse him. "Just be careful; some of the stuff is quite delicate."

"Of course." He moved forward, and with infinite care, began to empty the box, laying each item down as though it were made of porcelain.

She watched as he took out the frame containing Aurora's baby photos which had been taken at the hospital hours after her birth. Being Muggle photographs, they didn't move, but he didn't seem to notice as he gazed down at the plump baby who stared back with large liquid grey eyes.

"Her hair's very light in colour," he commented, eyes shining as they traced the fuzz on top of the baby's head.

"Yes, it darkened as she grew older." She reached into the box and drew out a small pouch, opening it and holding it out to him. "The hair I managed to save the first time she had it cut."

He stared for a long moment at the fine strands of light hair in the pouch, then took it from her. Finally, he retied it and replaced it reluctantly in the box. "I don't blame you for not wanting to shrink this; it's too precious." He picked up a tiny, ribboned silk dress and turned it over in his hands. "When did Aurora wear this?"

"The evening when Harry and Ron qualified as Aurors," she said, starting to put the mementoes back in the box. "She was only three months old at the time. We'd better go; Aurora will probably be wondering where we are." She was relieved that he had not questioned her as to why she hadn't shown him the box earlier and watched impassively as he studied the tiny dress.

"Mother said she'd call if she became distressed. Stop worrying, Hermione, she's fine." He picked up a rattle and turned it over curiously.

"Call?" Hermione asked, frowning. Surely Narcissa wasn't expecting to use the Floo; Hermione had had it disconnected when they moved.

Draco replaced the rattle and picked up a tiny silver spoon. "Yes, Hermione, call."

"But how though? The Floo's been disconnected; she won't be able to get through that way."

He sighed deeply and turned to her. "Sometimes you can be very dense. How do people call one another when they need to speak without the use of the Floo? By using a mobile phone of course. Use that brain you're so well-known for."

She felt her mouth fall open and swiftly shut it. "But I thought that…well, that she wouldn't…" She broke off, unsure of what to say. She had not considered that the upright and traditional Narcissa Fits-Gerald would own a mobile phone. But then she reasoned, the woman now lived in America where witches and wizards used Muggle appliances almost as often as Muggles. The drawing room of Malfoy Manor boasted a state of the art HiFi system, and there was a flat screen television in the smaller but no less impressive sitting room. No doubt Draco also had a computer in his study; she had not thought to look. Narcissa had most likely been forced into using Muggle technology, as in America, everyone, be they pureblood or Muggleborn, used it.

He replaced the remaining items back in the box and put on the lid, then turned to her, his eyes moving over her from head to foot. "You think a lot my dear." A frown crossed his brow and he snatched up her left hand, his smile gone. "Your wedding ring, where is it?"

"What?" she asked distractedly, her mind still trying to wrap itself around the concept of Narcissa using a mobile.

"Your ring, Hermione, your wedding ring." He shook her hand for emphasis, staring down at her bare ring finger.

"Oh that. I took it off. Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. I left it on the side table by the fireplace in the sitting room."

His scowl did not diminish. "Why did you take it off?"

Pulling her hand from his grasp, she shrugged. "It would have got in the way when I was busy."

He raised his wand and accio-ed the ring from the sitting room. It flew into his hand, and taking her left hand, he slipped the ring back onto her third finger. "Please don't remove it again. It won't get in the way of whatever you're doing. Platinum as you well know, has no effect on magic. Now, is there anything else left to do?"

His expression was bland and she wondered what he was thinking. There was more to the matter of the ring that he wasn't telling her, or why else would he have panicked like that?

"No, that's it. I just need to wash all the curtains and tidy up a bit but I can do that another day. Why don't you go back? I'll be there in twenty minutes; I just want to shower first. I feel grubby." She could have showered back at the manor but decided that it would be better not to turn up there looking unkempt. There was no need to invoke Narcissa's displeasure before she had to, and Merlin knew that she would have to soon enough.

"You've nothing to change into," came the amused reply as he surveyed her dusty and rumpled clothes, seemingly having put the last few moments from his mind.

She bit her lip, not having considered this. Ah well, she would get rid of the dust by a quick cleaning charm, not ideal by any means, but better than nothing. She could change back at the manor. Beside Draco's crisp jeans and t-shirt, she felt distinctly worst for wear, only too aware of her hair clinging to her face in sticky strands, and the dust that coated her in a layer of white from where she had cleaned under the beds and the back of the bookcase. Even with the aid of her wand, she seemed to have attracted a lot of dust. "I'll manage," she dismissed, turning away. "Can you take those boxes back with you? I'll sort them out when I get back. I won't be long."

He smiled, eyes not leaving her face, and in a silky voice, drawled, "Sometimes, I wonder how you managed to juggle a demanding job while bringing up Aurora. You can be amazingly scatty for someone who is head of a hospital department." Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a small bag, and a wand flick later, it quadrupled in size. "There you are, at least one of us has the ability to plan ahead." He gave her an indulgent smile as he spoke, and she scowled in response.

Opening the bag, she saw that it contained a fresh set of clothes; designer jeans and sleeveless top as well as underwear. It was one of the outfits that they had bought the day before. "Did you pack these?" she asked, colour rushing into her cheeks.

"Certainly; I thought you'd need to change after sorting out the flat, and guessing that you probably didn't have any clothes to change into, thought you would need these."

"Thanks," she smiled reluctantly. "I was so busy sorting things out in my head, I forgot to pack spare clothes."

He brushed his fingers over her cheek in a light caress. "Well, that's what marriage is all about; a partnership in which both spouses look out for the other."

"Yes," she agreed, dropping her gaze. The atmosphere seemed to have changed between them, and she wasn't quite sure how. "Well, I'd better get cleaned up. I won't be long."

"Of course. I'll wait for you in the sitting room."

She moved past him and locked the door of the bathroom with relief. She undressed swiftly and was soon under the spray of the shower, scrubbing away the dust clinging to her skin. Turning off the shower, she stepped out, towelled herself dry, and donned the clothes that Draco had bought with him. They fit her like a glove, accentuating every curve of her slim body. The sales assistant had indeed been right; the jeans and low-cut top had been altered so effectively, they looked as though they had been tailored for her. She towel-dried her hair and left it loose about her face.

She found Draco in the sitting room, sitting on the sofa leafing through one of the large photo albums, his expression preoccupied. At her entrance, he looked up.

"Feeling better?" he asked, eyes assessing her outfit.

"Much. We'd better go now." She glanced once more around the room to check that she had packed everything.

"I rang Mother while you were in the shower and she says that Aurora's perfectly fine. They went to a magical creatures shop and bought a kneazle kitten, which is keeping her occupied."

Hermione smiled. "She'll love that; she really missed Crookshanks when he died, and has always wanted another cat. I had intended getting her one for her fifth birthday."

"Well, the cat will provide common ground for the two of them to bond. Mother's looked forward to grandchildren since I left school." He grimaced. "There was one time when she decided to take matters into her own hands and started introducing women to me left, right, and centre. It was all I could do to escape. Even now I wonder how I managed to get away with my freedom intact."

She burst out laughing at the horrified look that crossed his face, imagining only too clearly his horror at his mother's attempts at matchmaking. Then crossing to sit beside him, she glanced down at the photo album on his lap, recognising it to be the one containing photos of Aurora from a newborn to her first birthday.

"Seriously though, Mother's been unable to think of anyone other than Aurora since they met. For all her smiles, she hasn't taken our daughter's indifference to her well, and jumped at the chance when I suggested that she baby-sit this afternoon," he continued.

"I understand what you're saying, but look at this from Aurora's point of view. She's been through a lot this last week and it's affected her deeply. I suppose accepting a new grandmother on top of moving home and us marrying was just too much," Hermione defended automatically.

"I know that, but it doesn't make it any easier for Mother. Going through all this stuff brings home how much she and I have missed," he said, looking down at the leather-bound album, open at a photograph of Aurora at the age of eleven months, taking a few wobbly steps forward. As they watched, she fell on her well-padded behind and tried to rise again. The caption beneath the picture read 'Attempt at walking independently - 22 September 2001'.

"That looks rather painful," he commented, watching as the plump child staggered forward a few steps, and losing her balance, landed once again on her behind.

"Oh no, she didn't feel anything; her nappy cushioned her fall," she explained, leaning closer to get a better look at the moving picture.

"Nappies have uses other than the obvious then," he smiled ruefully. "You won't mind if Mother has a look at these photos, will you? It'll mean a lot to her."

"Of course not. Maybe she'd like to make copies of those she likes and take them back to America with her. There're plenty of photos to choose from," she suggested impulsively.

He gazed at her, then smiled. "Thanks, that'll mean a lot to her. "

He fell silent but his eyes did not leave her face, and she felt the heat start to creep up her skin at his intent stare. Was there something on her chin, a piece of dust that she hadn't managed to remove maybe?

She cleared her throat in an effort to dispel the tension that had suddenly sprung up, but he didn't seem to hear her. Instead, he was stroking a finger down her cheek, the movement almost hypnotic in its intensity. She sat as though frozen as his finger stroked lightly over her skin, sending shivers along her taunt nerves, the photo album slipping unnoticed to the floor.

"I…We-" she began, but he cut her off.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" Then, not giving her a chance to respond, he bent and covered her mouth with his, and wrapping both arms tightly around her, pressed her against him.

Hermione, caught off guard, froze, and he began to brush his mouth over hers in a gentle but persistent caress. She thought afterwards, that it was probably that which was her undoing, and the thing that caused her to gasp and part her lips. Taking full advantage of this, he slipped his tongue into her mouth and began to kiss her more intimately while pressing her back into the cushions of the sofa. The rational part of her knew that she should be putting a stop to this, to slap him and send him on his way, but the feminine part which had been starved for so long, ignored it, revelling in the feel of him and responding. She became aware that he had loosened his right arm from around her and was sliding his fingers under the shoulder strap of her top, tracing small circles against her collar bone and moving downwards. Her mind was in turmoil as memories of another time five and a half years ago flooded it, the sensations he was creating seeming to have dragged them to the surface.

With a groan, he tore his mouth from hers and began to kiss and nibble at her neck, locating without difficulty the sensitive spot at the juncture of her neck and right shoulder and sucking hard on it. Dimly she realised that there would be a mark there when he had finished, and it was this thought that made her blink and come to her senses. Swiftly, she pushed at his chest and he released her, lifting his head and gazing down at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Hermione-" he began in a husky voice but she cut him off.

"We'd better go," she said, scrambling off the sofa and straightening her top. Bending, she scooped up the photo album and deposited it into the box of mementoes Draco had placed on the coffee table without looking at him. The quicker they got out of here, the quicker she would gain her equilibrium.

"I'll take that." He took the box from her arms and led the way from the room, his expression shuttered.

Glancing around one more time, she said nothing as she followed him out of the flat and shut the front door behind her. Then they Disapparated to appear a moment later in the Apparition chamber of the manor. It was quiet as they emerged into the hall, and she wondered where Aurora was.

"Mother and Aurora are probably in the sitting room." Draco jerked his head towards the closed door of the small sitting room used by the family as he spoke. "Hilly? " At his call, a house-elf popped into view and looked up at him.

"Take these boxes and put them in Hermione's room."

"Yes, Master," the elf bowed, and with a click of its long fingers, levitated the large box in his arms as well as those he had shrunk earlier into the air in front of her and moved up the stairs.

"Come on, let's see what kind of animal that daughter of ours has inveigled Mother into getting," he said, turning to Hermione and grinning.

His tone was light and she nodded. If he could behave so casually, then so could she. She walked across to the door and pushed it open.

Aurora and Narcissa were both crouched on the floor by a basket containing a tiny kitten no longer than Hermione's hand which was busy lapping at a saucer of milk. At the sound of the opening door, both looked up.

"Mummy, look," Aurora said, beckoning her over to them. "This is Tiger! He's a kneazle and going to be my best fwiend."

"Oh?" Hermione knelt on Aurora's other side and looked more closely at the creature. It had large ears and its fur was brown with white spots. The tail was thick, like that of a lion, and its belly, chin, and feet were white. It surveyed her through large brown eyes and then went back to lapping the milk.

"What do you think?" Narcissa asked them. Her arm was draped around Aurora's shoulders and Hermione was pleased to see that the child was not pulling away.

"It's very sweet," Draco said, kneeling down behind Aurora and looking at the kitten over her curls.

"Tiger, that's an odd name," Hermione mused, looking once again the small bundle of fur in the basket and wondering what feat of logic Aurora had employed to arrive at such an unsuitable name.

"Well, I wanted a tiger but Gwanma and the lady in the shop didn't think it would fit in my bedwoom as they're weally big and a cat would be better, so I called him Tiger instead."

"A wise choice, Princess," Draco approved with a straight face. "I must say, he is very nice. Maybe he'll look more like a tiger as he gets bigger, you never know."

She giggled. "I don't mind if he doesn't; I like him as he is! Do you like him, Mummy?" She turned to Hermione, eyes glowing.

"Oh yes, he's lovely," Hermione enthused, also resisting the urge to smile at Aurora's reasoning.

The child however, was frowning as she surveyed her mother. "What's that on your neck, Mummy?" she asked, leaning forward curiously and lifting the hair away from Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione felt heat sweep into her face as she realised what Aurora must be referring to; Draco must have left a mark on her neck in the flat. She hadn't thought to look as she had been so intent on putting distance between them.

"It's nothing," she muttered, feeling as though her face was on fire as desperately, she sought for something to distract her observant daughter.

"Yes it is, it's a purple mark. Look, Daddy, what is it?"

Draco laughed easily, ruffling Aurora's curls. Clearly he didn't feel any embarrassment, and Hermione wanted to hit him. "You ask a lot of questions, little one," he teased.

"But what is it?" Aurora persisted. "It wasn't there in the morning, I know."

"Well, as Mummy said, it's nothing much. Sometimes when Mummies and Daddies are together, these things happen," he explained off-handedly

Hermione let out a choked splutter, and if possible, her face went even redder. She wasn't worried about what Aurora thought so much, she could handle her, but what must Narcissa be thinking? The older woman sat back on her heels, a smile playing about her mouth as she watched the scene before her. Of all the room's occupants, she seemed least disturbed. If anything, she seemed to be exuding an air of satisfaction, and Hermione frowned in puzzlement.

Then Narcissa said, "Oh look, Aurora, Tiger's finished his milk. Would you like to hold him now?"

Completely distracted, Aurora turned back to the cat basket, her mother forgotten in the excitement of holding the kitten, and Hermione, taking advantage of the diversion, jumped up and hurriedly left the room.

She ran upstairs and into her own bedroom where she examined herself in the dressing table mirror and winced. There on the side of her neck was a purple and blue love bite that not even the least perceptive of people would miss. No wonder Aurora had remarked on it. A fresh wave of colour sweeping her face, she banished the bruise with a quick prod of her wand before examining the rest of her neck just in case. To her relief, there were no other visible marks. A knock at the door startled her, and lowering her wand, she turned to face it.

"Who is it?" she called. If that was Draco, she would probably throw something at him.

"It's me, may I come in?" Narcissa's voice answered, and reluctantly Hermione opened the door to see the other woman standing outside. Stepping back, she let her into the room before shutting the door and turning to face her.

"Sorry for disturbing you like this, but I thought I'd take the opportunity for a quick chat as Draco and Aurora are playing with the kitten," Narcissa started, her glance sweeping around the room.

"Right," Hermione answered warily, nodding at one of the armchairs. She had a feeling she knew what was coming and felt annoyance bubble up inside her. No doubt Narcissa was about to deliver a lecture on proper behaviour and etiquette, especially in front of children.

The other woman ignored the invitation to sit and strolled over to the windows and looked out. "It's a lovely view from here," she commented dreamily and smiled. "Anyway, I'm veering from the point." She turned back to Hermione. "I must say that I'm relieved that things between you and Draco are as they should be between husband and wife."

"What?" Hermione asked, completely taken aback.

"Well, dear, I was getting rather worried but didn't like to say anything, it being none of my business."

Deciding that she must have missed something along the way, Hermione blinked. "Sorry Narcissa, I'm lost, what do you mean?"

"You and Draco. I was getting worried that things between you weren't what they should be, but today has proved me wrong and I'm pleased," Narcissa explained patiently.

A horrible suspicion was taking root in Hermione's mind but she tried to ignore it. No, she couldn't think like that; the mere thought made her want to retch. Pulling herself together. She adopted a bland expression and shrugged. "Right."

"I'm sure you'll agree with me that a couple's sex life is very important. After all, what kind of marriage is it when they can't get the basics right? When there seemed to be no sparkle between you and Draco I started worry as mothers do, but this afternoon has proved me wrong, I'm pleased to say."

Oh heavens, her suspicions had been right. Hermione wondered if the floor would oblige her by opening and swallowing her up but it remained solid under her feet. Narcissa, far from berating her about the scene downstairs, had come here to express her approval of it. Hell must have frozen over!

"There's no need to look so shocked my dear. I too, am a woman you know," the blonde smiled, correctly interpreting Hermione's blank look. "All I'm saying is that there's nothing shameful in enjoying oneself with one's partner. Children can be very observant but you have to remain calm about it. Why, I remember one time when Draco was around six I think. We were on holiday in Greece and Lucius and I had spent the night well…enjoying ourselves. Next morning we slept late and in our haste to pack up, I forgot to get rid of the marks of our activities. You can imagine Draco's curiosity; it's natural in children. Aurora will get used to it in time I'm sure."

Trying valiantly not to imagine Narcissa and her former husband 'enjoying themselves', she swallowed. "As you say, children get used to it I'm sure."

"That's the problem, isn't it?" the older woman suggested shrewdly. "It's Aurora? She won't accept the fact that you are married now and that she has to share you. It would certainly account for the fact that you and Draco are sleeping in separate bedrooms and that you've slept in Aurora's bed for the last few nights. No wonder Draco was eager that I baby-sit her this afternoon; you wanted a bit more than a few snatched moments together. Well, that's more than understandable."

"Oh no, it was nothing-"

"Hermione, I'm not blaming Aurora in the least, far from it. She's a child and up until now, she hasn't had to share you with anyone, but she'll soon get used to things. I don't mind babysitting in the least if you two want to slip off for the afternoon, or even having her sleep with me at night to give you both time alone."

Deciding that the conversation had gone far enough, Hermione nodded. "Well thanks for the offer, it's appreciated." Then she went to the door, Narcissa following her reluctantly.

Once the other woman had gone, Hermione leaned her forehead on the cool windowsill and breathed in the fragrant summer air wafting in through the open windows. That had to be one of the most embarrassing conversations she had ever had. She was disturbed to think that Narcissa had noticed that she and Draco had not shared a bed; no doubt she had asked the house-elves who had told her. Well, Hermione would use Aurora as her excuse until Narcissa left, a day that could not come soon enough.

Her mind went back to the scene in her flat that afternoon, and she touched the place where the love bite had been. She was honest enough with herself to know that she had enjoyed that kiss as much as Draco; he had given her ample opportunity to pull away but she hadn't.

The kiss had awakened memories she had thought were long buried deep in her subconscious, memories of her and Draco on the night when Aurora had been conceived. She recognised that she had been as much to blame for the result as he. Maybe that had been why she had buried the memories so far in her subconscious, guilt for enjoying sleeping with a man whom she had always considered an enemy? She didn't know. What she did know was that there could never be a repeat of this afternoon, however much her body craved it. She didn't even like Draco, finding him high-handed and manipulative in the extreme. The man certainly knew what he was doing when it came to women, and this was what had drawn her to him, her previous encounters with men, mostly other trainee healers, having been deeply disappointing.

All she and Draco had in common was Aurora, and in a year or so, they would get a divorce and go their separate ways. Aurora would be secure, and that was what really mattered. Maybe then she would look for someone decent, someone with whom she had likes and interests in common, someone with whom she would enjoy the finer things of life, and someone who put her pleasure before his own. She was sure there were certainly plenty of men out there like that; she just had to find someone with decent morals as well, a feat surely not that difficult to do.

Glad that she had settled the matter in her own mind, she turned and left the room. She would behave as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and soon Draco would forget about it and find someone to satisfy him - no doubt there would be no lack of available women. She scowled as she went downstairs, ignoring the bitter taste in her mouth at the thought. Knowing him, he'd already forgotten the afternoon's kiss, so she must do the same and before she knew it, the year would be up and she could begin her search for Mr. Right.


	14. Chapter 13

Authors Note: This chapter is definitely rated R or N as in the new ratings system. If you're underage, please don't read it, you have been warned! As always thanks go to my wonderful beta for editing and providing constructive criticism, as well as you, my reviewers. There are only a few more chapters to go of this story; you'll be pleased to hear.

Chapter Thirteen

With gentle hands, Hermione lifted the tiny form of the sleeping baby out of the wooden cradle and placed her on her lap. Beside her, Aurora stared down at the small form, eyes wide with interest.

"Do you like her, Aurora?" Ginny asked from her reclining position in the bed beside the cradle.

"She's so little, why?" came the hesitant response as Aurora stared at the baby.

"She'll get bigger; everyone is little at first," Hermione smiled, gazing down into the face of the tiny child in her arms. Then turning to Ginny, she asked, "Have St. Selistina's given you the all clear yet?"

St. Selistina's was the best wizarding gynaecological organisation throughout Europe and she knew from both professional and personal experience that their reputation in this field was well-deserved.

Ginny grimaced. "Melissa, the healer whose been looking after me, visited this morning and said that everything seemed fine. You know that lot; they'll keep visiting until I'm sick of the sight of them."

"Well, it's always best to be cautious in these matters. Have they any idea what triggered your labour?" Hermione cuddled the five-week premature baby closer to her as she spoke, seating herself on the end of Ginny's bed.

She looked down into the baby's face and smiled. It was difficult to see who the child resembled; her features were so small. The hair on her head though, was straight and dark like Harry's.

"Nope, just one of those things. Merlin though, I'll never forget the feeling of panic when the pains set in. Ah well, we've both come out of it okay, so I'm not worrying. Melissa said that she was coming along nicely; her birth weight has gone up by a pound already. The strengthening potions she has to take are really doing their stuff."

"I'm sure they are. If she'd been born in the Muggle world, she would have gone into an incubator until her birth weight had gone up. It's times like this that I'm thankful for magic." Hermione stroked a finger over the baby's velvety cheek as she spoke and Ginny nodded fervently.

"That's what Harry said as well. It's not uncommon though for a baby to be born prematurely as you know. Muggles are probably not as well-equipped as us to deal with such things."

Aurora moved closer, eyes still riveted on the sleeping child. "When will she wake up?" she asked, stretching out a tentative hand and touching the dark hair.

"Whenever she gets hungry," Ginny smiled. "Then you'll be able to see her cry; she has a very loud voice you know."

Hermione gazed into the face of the infant and felt an unexplainable yearning take hold of her. This feeling had gripped her from the first moment that she had set eyes on the newborn four days ago. "So, decided on a name yet?" she asked in an effort to stop herself dwelling on feelings she could not explain.

"Yes, Rose. Harry likes it; apparently it was his maternal grandmother's name. I don't mind. A lot of these old wizarding names are a real mouthful and it'll be nice to have something simple and straightforward for a change."

"And her middle name?" Aurora chipped in with interest.

Ginny shrugged. "We haven't decided yet. Anyway, enough about me, how are you, Aurora? It feels like ages since I last saw you."

"I'm okay," the child replied absently. "Mummy, can I pick her up?"

"No, darling, not today. She's still too little yet. When she's a bit bigger then you can, is that okay?" Hermione bit her lip at the disappointed look that crossed her daughter's face, knowing how excited she had been to see the baby.

"We have to be careful with her because she's so small," Ginny said, also wincing at the look of disappointment Aurora wore. "When she's grown a bit, then you can hold her as much as you like. Now come here and give me a cuddle!"

The child scowled but went across to a still pale Ginny who hugged her tightly before handing her a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "There you go. You'd better finish them off before Uncle Harry gets back, or he'll eat them all."

Grinning now, Aurora settled herself on the bed and opened the box of sweets.

Turning to Hermione, Ginny said, "That healer said that I have to stay in bed another three days. I'm already bored out of my skull." Then, her eyes raking over the other woman curiously, she asked, "And you? How's married life suiting you?"

"Oh, okay I suppose. Things have been easier since Narcissa left for the States though; no more speculative glances over the breakfast table. You know, she even questioned the house-elves about our sleeping arrangements. Talk about interfering."

"Oh dear, and there's me thinking you were missing her!" Ginny laughed brightly, eyes shining.

"About as much as a hole in the head," Hermione grimaced, glancing at Aurora, who was concentrating on swallowing a particularly nasty tasting bean and not paying them any attention. "Don't get me wrong, she wasn't horrible or anything, just very nosy." She thought back to that embarrassing conversation she and the older woman had had regarding her and Draco's sleeping habits, and even now, three weeks later, cringed inwardly at the memory.

"Well, she wants the best for her son. It's understandable that she's anxious," the redhead smiled wickedly.

"There's being anxious, and downright meddling. She even offered to have Aurora sleep with her, so that we could have some time alone together." Hermione shuddered at the recollection.

Ginny chuckled, then sighed wistfully. "Personally, I don't see why you're so determined not to let him anywhere near you. Yeah, okay, he's a conniving git, but even you have to admit he's easy on the eyes, Hermione. That silky blond hair just begs for a woman to run her fingers through it, and as for his body… it's all sinewy muscle! If I were you, I'd shag him rotten, and when you get tired of him, divorce him. As you said before, Madam over there will have his name and that's what matters. If you can have a bit of fun along the way, why not? I would if I were free!"

"Ginny! You really are the limit! What would Harry say if he heard you?" Hermione laughed, glancing again at Aurora, who was foraging in the box for more oddly coloured beans.

The redhead shrugged and grinned broadly. "He'd have me admitted to St Mungo's quicker than you can blink, but he's a bloke; he wouldn't understand. Hell, even Mum thinks Malfoy's good–looking, but she'd cut her right arm off before she'd admit it."

"She was all for us marrying and gave me a good talking to about it," Hermione remembered with a smile.

"Well, let's put it this way," Ginny stated, leaning back against her pillows. "Malfoy's not the type to go without sleeping with a woman for long, so if you don't do the honours, you can bet your last knut that some other woman will and do you really want him cheating on you like that? Imagine the gossip, if nothing else."

Hermione breathed in and out very slowly to give herself time to think. This thought had been hovering at the edge of her own consciousness for awhile now, whatever she might say to the contrary. "We agreed before the wedding took placed that it would be a marriage in name only," she replied in what she hoped was a calm voice. "Any liaisons that either of us decided to have would be kept discrete."

"I know that but the scandal would be incredible if anyone found out, as you well know," her friend responded dryly. "Anyway," her eyes narrowed in speculation as she watched Hermione with the baby, "by the look on your face, I'd say you're getting a bit broody. Now he could help you with that particular problem."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Hermione replied, not looking up. She felt the colour creeping into her face, and wondered if Ginny was right. Was she becoming broody? She couldn't see why she would, but when had emotion ever listened to reason?

"Oh, come now, Hermione. I've known you for long enough, you've visited me twice a day since Rose was born and can never put her down. That's the mark of a brooding woman if you ask me."

"Your mother and your sisters-in-laws can't put her down either, would you say they're broody as well?" Hermione retorted, breathing in the baby's clean scent and trying to clamp down on the feeling of longing that was threatening to engulf her.

Ginny wrinkled her brow in thought. "No, not all of them, but Fleur was looking a bit wistful yesterday as well. It's a certain look that comes into a woman's eyes; you only notice it when you become a mother."

"You have become wise in the last four days! You should write a book on the subject." Hermione stood up. "Anyway, I have a baby of my own, thank you very much. I don't need another one."

At this, Ginny let out a snort of laughter. "Aurora really wouldn't appreciate you calling her a baby, now would you, darling?"

Aurora swallowed her bean, grimaced and looked up. "I'm not a baby! I'm big for one thing and babies are tiny." She nodded at Rose to emphasise her point.

Hermione smiled ruefully, hoping the child had bot been paying any attention to their conversation. "No, but you'll always be my baby whether you like it or not."

"Well I'm not a baby! I'm going to be five next month! People who're five aren't babies!"

"My point exactly," agreed Ginny. "A five-year-old is one thing, but having a little newborn who is dependent on you for everything is completely different. For a start, they can't run away when you want to give them a cuddle and when they smile at you…" She sighed in contentment.

"Rose hasn't smiled at you yet; she's far too young! Anyway, all that nappy changing and those night-time feeds, no thanks." Hermione shook her head, but the other woman only laughed.

"Deny it all you want, but it's as plain as day; you're broody, and the only remedy for that is to have a little one of your own."

A slight movement made Hermione look down to see that the baby had woken up and was looking at her through large green eyes. "Ah, bless, she cooed. "As I said yesterday, she definitely scowls like Harry, it's so sweet!"

"Yep, let's just hope that she's inherited my brains though. That's one department my dear husband is lacking in," the new mother stated with a mock-serious frown which made Hermione laugh.

Aurora jumped off the bed and came over to her mother and the baby. "Why is her mouth open like that?" she asked, studying the small face screwed up in apparent anger.

"She's hungry," Ginny replied. Then to Hermione she added, "It's been a while since her last feed. The healer said to feed her whenever she wanted and not to start a feeding pattern until she was older."

"What will she eat? She hasn't got any teeth," Aurora commented.

"She'll drink milk. That's all babies can have when they're very small." Ginny held out her arms for the whimpering infant and reluctantly, Hermione handed her over.

She watched as Ginny removed the light shawl covering the tiny form and sighed in nostalgia. "We'd better go and let you rest. Have you got everything you need?"

"Yep. I'll get Dinga to get anything I can't summon, so stop worrying."

Dinga was the Potters' new house–elf, and Hermione knew the tiny creature was more than capable of looking after Ginny and a baby when Harry was out of the house. The elf had been selected by Molly Weasley herself, so how could it not?

"Mummy, can we have a baby as well?" Aurora suddenly piped up, her eyes on Rose, who was crying heartily now, mouth wide open and fists flailing in temper.

"Why?" Hermione asked, turning to her in surprise.

"They're quite nice and you can hold them. Anyway, I'll be its big sister then and can tell it what to do."

"Your Mummy says that babies are hard work," Ginny smirked, unbuttoning her nightdress.

"No, they're not; all they do is sleep," Aurora protested, turning to a flustered Hermione. "Mummy, if we had a baby, it could sleep in my woom with Tiger. Then it wouldn't disturb you, and me and Tiger could look after it."

"No, Aurora," Hermione replied, a leaden feeling she could not explain taking root inside her.

"But why not? If I asked Daddy he'd say yes," the child argued, eyes glittering with determination.

"Well you're not going to ask Daddy, so it's not a problem," Hermione stated sternly while Ginny grinned. "Now come on, we need to let Auntie Ginny and the baby rest."

"Like hell she's not," the redhead mouthed, but Hermione pretended not to notice.

"Just remember, no getting out of bed until the Healer tells you, okay?" she said, giving Ginny a glare, which the other woman ignored.

"Stop worrying about me and start thinking of yourself," Ginny advised, putting the baby to her breast. "Bye, darling." She waved at Aurora, who smiled in return.

Their goodbyes said, Hermione and Aurora Flooed back to Malfoy Manor, each preoccupied with their own thoughts.

XoXoXoXo

The dining room of the large exclusive Surrey hotel echoed with chatter and laughter as the diners tucked into the third course of the evening. It was the Annual Pathon and Francis dinner hosted by the Ministry of Magic, and everyone of any note in the wizarding world had been invited to the gathering.

Six long tables were packed with witches and wizards conversing amicably as they ate their way through the excellent food. Many saw this as an opportunity to network and forge new business contacts, and Hermione knew the Ministry relied on this dinner to persuade wealthy witches and wizards to part with gold for Ministry-run schemes and ideas, in return for positions on various committees and so on.

As a major participant in the war, a close friend of Harry Potter, and later the youngest Hanwell's Healer to have a department of her own, she had been to more of these sorts of dinners than she cared to remember, and had it been left to her, she would not have come tonight. She scowled as she rearranged the food on her plate and tried to block out the voices to her right without success. Draco was talking and laughing with a tall, curvaceous woman Hermione did not know, but who seemed to be monopolising all his attention.

She glared at the seat on her other side which was currently empty. The other diners near her were chatting to each other and she was hesitant to enter into their conversations. Suddenly, the empty chair to her left was pulled out, and a bespectacled wizard sat down.

"So sorry I'm late. I've only just finished work," he said, busy arranging his napkin.

Hermione breathed an inward sigh of relief, maybe now she would have someone to talk to at this blasted dinner! She gave him a polite smile.

"Hermione Granger?" he asked, looking at her, and when she nodded, he went on. "You probably won't remember me, but we met when you finished your training at St Mungo's on your Graduation Day, what, over five years ago now? I'm Brandon Clayton; I was head of the faculty of Trainee Healers at the time."

"Of course, how could I have forgotten?" In truth, she only had a vague recollection of this man she'd hardly ever seen other than in the occasional lecture, and when he had presented her with her Healers' Certificate on the day she had become a fully-trained Healer.

Brandon laughed jovially and took a sip of wine. "It's perfectly understandable, my dear. We've not met for all these years after all. That's why I didn't recognise you at first."

"So tell me, how are you? We were sorry to lose you, I can tell you, and right after you'd qualified as well. You were the brightest healer I'd seen in a while now. I trust that Hanwell's is treating you well?" he asked.

Deciding to answer his last question rather than his first, Hermione smiled. "Oh yes, it's a nice place; I really enjoy my job," she said, feeling slightly awkward.

"So tell me, that last article of yours…"

The two were soon chatting about advances in healing potions and various medical techniques that had been introduced in the last few years, and the dinner became more bearable for Hermione. She kept her head turned resolutely away from Draco and the woman with whom he was so shamelessly flirting, and spent the rest of the meal in conversation with Brandon. It was near the end of the meal when Brandon said, "Do you remember Adam Hamilton?"

Hermione felt a slight flush creep onto her cheeks, and took a hasty sip of wine to recover herself. How could she not remember the tall, dark-eyed young man she had dated during her training? Adam had been a year ahead of her in the trainee programme, and like her, had been serious and dedicated to his profession. Their time together had been enjoyable, but then Adam had graduated, and that had been that. She knew that he was in charge of his own ward at St Mungo's now, although she'd not seen him since leaving.

"Yes, of course, how is he?" she asked with interest, wincing as Draco's companion giggled at a joke he had just told.

"You can find out for yourself in a moment; he's here tonight," Brandon smiled. "I don't know if you know, but he was recently commended on his study of children with Cramp Limb Disease by the journal of mediwizardry, and plans to do some further research into the field. He's really got a way with children, and shortly should be a leading Paediatric healer."

Soon the dinner was over and the guests were moving through to the large hotel lounge for coffee and to mingle. Hermione knew this was the opportunity that business people like Draco had been waiting for, and sure enough, as they rose from the table, he touched her elbow, lightly saying, "Will you be okay for a bit? There're a few people I'd like a quick word with..."

She nodded, surprised that he had bothered to ask, and watched him disappear into the crowd with mixed feelings, while wondering if one of the people with whom he wanted to 'network' was his exotic dinner companion. She was relieved that the speeches had been made before dinner as she followed Brandon into the well-lit room and over to where a few figures stood talking by one of the long windows facing the neatly laid out gardens.

"Adam! I've a surprise for you," Brandon said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder as they joined the small group.

Adam Hamilton broke off what he was saying and turned, eyes widening as they fell on Hermione, who stood beside Brandon looking wary.

"Hermione Granger? Is it really you?" he asked, staring at her, eyes moving from her neatly-pinned hair, over the simple sapphire necklace and earrings, down the strapless blue sheath dress that hugged her figure, and to her matching high-heeled sandals.

Smiling broadly, Hermione stepped forward and held out her hand. "Adam, it's wonderful to see you after so long."

His face too, broke into a smile, and she felt heat suffuse her cheeks. He was tall and slim, possessing a live grace to match Draco's own. His eyes and hair were dark, and she noticed that there were a few more lines around his mouth that hadn't been there when they'd last met.

"This is an unexpected pleasure," he grinned, taking her arm. "Can I get you coffee?"

She shook her head. "That meal was so filling; I couldn't eat or drink another thing."

"I must admit I was surprised at how lavish it was," Adam agreed. "But Hermione, how are you? So much has happened to both of us since we last met."

"Yes, it's scary how time seems to speed up the older you get," she agreed, noticing that Brandon and the group of people with whom Adam had been conversing were moving away.

"We can't really talk here," he said, glancing around them. Groups of people were standing about and conversing in loud voices. The elf-made wine had loosened tongues, and the noise level in the large room was rising as people made the best of the opportunity to socialise and forge contacts. She couldn't see Draco anywhere and squashed the suspicion that he was probably with some woman. Let him do what he liked; she couldn't care less.

"Come, it'll be quieter in the conservatory," Adam continued, moving away from the window.

"I wasn't aware there was a conservatory here," she said, following him out onto the terrace and around the side of the building. Soon they had come to another door, and he pushed it open. The room into which they stepped had a glass roof, and plants of all varieties were housed in large urns and pots. Cane sofas and chairs were dotted about the room, and she saw that a few other people had also taken refuge there too. Adam led the way over to a sofa hidden behind a large potted plant, and they sat down.

"So tell me about yourself, Hermione. What have you been doing these past few years?" he asked, leaning back and observing her with interest.

"Oh, all sorts. When I first started at Hanwell's, I had to work in all the departments and a few months later, settled into the department of Surgical Magic. I had to take a course in Muggle surgical techniques, and after that, began to combine them with wizarding techniques. It was hard at first, the hours were horrendous, sometimes I was dead on my feet, but it was worth every minute. I also did research when I could find the time, and a few months ago, was made Head of Department. Hanwell's is quite different to St Mungo's; not so much bureaucracy and stuffiness. If you have talent, they'll develop it." She smiled proudly.

"Oh, they're quite modern. They'd have to be to be the first hospital to openly integrate magical and Muggle medicine. It's a shame that my own interest lies in paediatrics, or I would have transferred as you did."

They chatted for some time about their respective careers, and Hermione began to relax and unwind in his undemanding company. It was nice to talk to someone who understood her profession, but was not a colleague and with whom she was therefore not expected to discuss actual cases. She remembered their old easy relationship and a part of her was sorry that she and Adam had agreed to go their separate ways as they had.

As though he was reading her thoughts, he sighed. "I've often thought about you, you know. Every time I came across your name in some journal I wondered how you were getting on. I still can't believe that you were married and have a child. I mean, when did you find the time amongst all that training Hanwell's was making you do? Then there was the war!"

"Oh, you can find time for anything when you need to," she shrugged. "As for my daughter, she's almost five now. After my husband died, my parents and friends helped me look after her, and work helped me to forget." She always felt uncomfortable talking about her fictitious marriage, and would liked to have changed the subject but Adam was going on.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but why did you marry Malfoy?" he asked, turning to face her in the dim room. "From what I can recall, you never really got on during your Hogwarts days, so it was a surprise to everyone when it was announced in the Prophet."

"Oh, lots of reasons," she smiled mirthlessly. "We've known one another since the age of eleven, and when we met again, we found that we'd both grown up. Also, he didn't mind that I had a child and they took to each other." She hoped this explanation didn't sound as flat to him as it did to her.

"I'm happy for you, Hermione," he said with a smile. "If anyone deserves happiness, it's you. You know, I hope we can keep in touch; I'd like to be friends if that's okay. You're one of the most forward thinking of our kind I know, and it would be lovely to meet up sometimes to chat and bounce ideas off each other."

She smiled. "I don't see why not. To be honest, it was nice talking shop with someone not from my own hospital for a change. It gives you a different insight into things."

"You're telling me. I had been in two minds about this dinner, but Brandon persuaded me to come as I'd been invited, and now I'm glad I did."

"I had no intention of coming this evening at all, but Draco insisted it was an excellent networking and business opportunity. He was adamant he couldn't come alone and as we had each been sent separate invites, I agreed." She tailed off as bile rose in her throat. She wondered where Draco was now, but more especially, with whom.

In a spontaneous movement, Adam gave her a quick hug. Hermione caught off guard by this action, stiffened and then relaxed, and returned his friendly hug. Why shouldn't she hug him? She was doing nothing she shouldn't be after all, and even if she was, it was no one's business but her own. She leaned against him, content to rest her head on his shoulder, and now glad that she had come even though she had been forced to watch Draco make a spectacle of himself.

"So how about you?" she asked, looking up at him. "Married yet?"

He laughed. "Not yet, but I hope to be soon. She's a Muggle, and we met a year or so ago now. She does know about the wizarding world, but for obvious reasons I couldn't bring her tonight. Anyway, she's still very nervous around magical folk, so I'm hesitant to pop the question just yet."

"I hope all goes well for you both," she smiled. "The poor girl must have been pretty surprised when you told her you were a wizard."

"You bet. It really unnerved her at first. I thought she'd want nothing to do with me after I told her, but we're still together."

"If you care for someone, then you can overcome such a barrier. It'll just take her a bit of time to get used to it, that's all."

"I suppose," he sighed, one arm still around her shoulders, his expression thoughtful. "Hermione, tell me to get lost if you think I'm presuming, but could you meet her maybe? I'm sure Suzy would like you, and as you too come from a Muggle background, it may be easier for her to talk to you about such things than me. After all, you have more in common with her than I do, and there's no one else I know who has such an understanding of the Muggle world."

She nodded, understanding the situation only too well. By the sound of it, Adam's fiancée was still mistrustful of the wizarding world, and maybe she could help her adjust. Adam, having been brought up in the wizarding world, would not be able to empathise as she could.

"Of course. I remember when I first got my Hogwarts letter, I thought I was going mad. Even now my parents aren't entirely comfortable with me doing magic in front of them. It must be one heck of a shock to find out that your boyfriend is a wizard; a lot of people would have turned and run."

"Oh believe me, for awhile I thought she would, but luckily, it didn't come to that. She's just nervous, and meeting my family doesn't seem to have helped much."

The door of the conservatory opened behind them, but neither looked up, too engrossed in their own conversation.

"How about lunch some time during the week? We can take things from there. I think a Muggle restaurant would be best. No magical folk to upset things if you see what I mean," she said, smiling. "Owl me and we'll arrange a time."

Cool fingers wrapped themselves around Hermione's upper arm in a vice-like grip, and she yelped in shock, turning to face her captor. Draco stood looking down at her, his expression cold as he looked from one surprised face to the other.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," he clipped out, pulling her roughly to her feet. "It's getting late and high time we left." He glared from her to Adam as he spoke, and the other man too, got up.

Hermione swallowed nervously. It didn't take a genius to guess that Draco was in a towering rage, but she couldn't understand why. Maybe his networking hadn't gone as planned, or his dinner companion had disappeared, but whatever the reason, he was like a bomb which may explode at any second.

She decided that the best thing to do was get him away from there. His expression suggested that he was capable of murder and it was better all around if he let loose in the privacy of Malfoy Manor rather than here where everyone who was anyone in the wizarding world would be witness to it.

"Of course," she agreed, trying not to wince as his fingers bit into her arm. "Adam, if you'll excuse us."

Adam was staring at Draco, brow creased in perplexity. Clearly he too had scented danger, for he was moving towards the door of the conservatory as he said, "Yes of course. It was lovely meeting you, Hermione. I'll owl you about lunch."

At this, Draco let out a muttered oath, and releasing Hermione's arm, wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulders so that their bodies were pressed together in a parody of an embrace. "Come on," he snarled, pulling her towards the hotel's Apparition chamber as though she were an errant child.

"Draco, stop this at once," she hissed angrily, trying but failing to pull free of his imprisoning arm. "What's wrong with you?"

He ignored her but carried on moving, pulling her easily with him.

"I demand you release me, this instant!" she glowered, but to no effect.

"Then you can demand to your heart's content, my dear, but it won't make any difference," came the curt response.

They had reached the small and mercifully empty cloak room which doubled as an Apparition chamber, and he pulled her inside. "Now, I trust you'll Apparate straight home?" he asked, snatching up her silk shawl from a peg and throwing it over her shoulders.

She had half a mind to deliver a sarcastic retort, but one look at his set face stopped her. She nodded, and without saying another word, Disapparated to appear a moment later in Malfoy Manor.

She moved from the Apparition chamber into the hall, and a second later, Draco was behind her. Wordlessly, they mounted the stairs to Aurora's room. Both were silent as they kissed the sleeping child good night, and with a curt nod, Draco dismissed the house-elf who had been sitting by the head of the bed. They turned and left the dimly lit room, Draco's eyes boring into Hermione's back as she made her way to her own room.

Unsurprisingly, he followed her into the room, the lamps of which lit up as she pushed open the door. She crossed to the dressing table, and kicking off her sandals, dropped her silk wrap onto the stool.

"Who is he?" he barked out, glaring at her as she began to remove her jewellery.

"Who is who?" she asked, taken aback at the glare that was being directed at her while wondering who he was talking about, one of his business associates maybe.

"Him! That jumped up upstart you were curled up with in the conservatory. Who is he?"

Her expression hardened as she realised that he was referring to adam. She felt indignant colour stain her cheeks, and glared at Draco. "Don't call him that, and anyway, why do you want to know?"

"Answer my question," he flung back. "Who is he?"

She hesitated, and then shrugged. What did it matter if he knew? "He's someone I used to know during my training at St Mungo's. We met tonight purely by chance."

His brows rose until they threatened to disappear into his hairline. "Now that was convenient," he drawled acidly.

"And what do you mean by that?" she was stung into retorting.

"I wonder how many others saw you curled up together like a pair of love birds," he said, eyes narrowed. "Have you no decency?"

Her own temper, which had smouldered in the background since they'd returned, now erupted into life. "Decency?" she snarled. "How dare you of all people talk to me of decency? You don't know the meaning of the word, flirting with that woman like that, and in public as well." She was almost shouting now. "You have the gall to accuse me of being indecent when all I was doing was chatting to an old friend while you… You were flirting and carrying on shamelessly with that woman!"

"I was not carrying on with her; I was merely making polite conversation. If you'd not been sulking because none of your friends were attending the dinner, I wouldn't have had to spend the time talking to her."

She let out a snort which would have made Ron proud. "You were all over her. It was disgusting to watch. What people must have thought…?"

"Before you start pointing fingers, I might remind you that I overheard you and that 'acquaintance' making plans to meet. Even when he saw me, the man carried on as though it were a lunch date with friends that he was inviting you to." His eyes glittered with anger as he bit out the words.

She opened her mouth to explain, but then decided against it. Why should she explain anything to him? Instead she shrugged in what she hoped was a bored manor. "So? It's not as though our marriage is real; we agreed on that. I can't be expected to live like a nun. What goes on between Adam and myself is no business of yours. Now, if you don't mind, I want to go to bed." She waved a hand at the door but he ignored it.

"Anything that affects you is my business," he hissed, advancing on her. She resisted the temptation to back away, but instead raised her chin defiantly.

"No, it's not. My personal life has nothing whatsoever to do with you as well you know, so do us both a favour and stop playing the injured party. It doesn't suit you."

He moved so quickly, she barely had time to gasp. Next moment, his fingers were digging painfully into her shoulders and he was looking down into her face, his expression hard. "You think so? Well, we'll see about that." Then bending his head, he captured her mouth in a fierce and bruising kiss, arms clamping round her like steel bands so that she stumbled against him.

Hermione's eyes widened and she tried to pull away, but to no avail. He was much stronger than she, and her struggles were achieving nothing. Panic was starting to take hold of her as he bent her backwards, his mouth demanding as he parted her lips with his tongue. Then when she thought that the onslaught would never stop, the kiss changed and became gentle and persuasive, catching her off guard so she ceased her struggle to get away.

Pressing her against him, he raised a hand and began to take the pins from her hair, leaving it to fall in thick waves onto her shoulders. Soon, all the pins had been discarded, and he slid his fingers through the silky strands to cup the back of her head, while raising his own so he could look down at her.

"Did he kiss you?" he asked in a hoarse voice, and she shook her head wordlessly, her mind seemingly to have come to a standstill.

"Good." Then bending once more, he resumed the kiss, his lips caressing and teasing hers, making her tingle all over. She groaned inwardly as she felt herself start to respond to his kisses, and was unaware of her arms creeping around him. The man was probably the best kisser she had ever known, his tongue coaxing hers to engage in a passionate dance of which she had not been aware that it was capable. She recognised dimly that there had been one other time when he had kissed her in this way, and that had been on the night of Aurora's conception.

She blinked as the thought slid into her mind, knowing that she should end the kiss here and now if she was to keep her distance. Next moment however, he had nipped lightly at her lower lip and the resolution slid from her daised mind.

"Hermione," he breathed between kisses, and tilting her head back, started kissing and nibbling at her neck and throat. She felt herself sway as her senses leapt to life, and again tried to regain some measure of control over herself, but Draco had found the sensitive spot on her neck about only which he seemed to know, and common sense slid out of her grasp as he latched on to it. She felt his fingers on the back of her dress undoing the fastenings that held it up, and knew that she should stop him, but what he was doing to her felt too good. Her knees hit the back of the bed and she collapsed onto it, knowing dimly that he must have backed her towards it.

Deftly, he pulled the dress down until it exposed her breasts and stomach and she knew that for her at least, the point of no return was near. He pushed her back until she was lying on her back looking up at him and leaned over her, his hair brushing her face.

"Hermione, tell me you don't want this," he said in a husky voice, his mouth less than an inch from hers, while one finger traced the contours of her breasts and stomach in a tantalising caress.

"I….I" she gasped, trying to clear the fog from her brain. Unfortunately, thinking was proving to be very difficult and she blinked up at him, her normally logical brain feeling like cotton wool as she paused, trying to form a coherent thought.

He laughed softly and bent to kiss her again, while sliding his thumb under the satin of her bra and caressing the underside of her breast in light strokes. "Tell me you want me to stop," he said again, lifting his head and staring into her glazed eyes. "Go on, say it. Tell me you want me to stop and I will."

She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but once again, her tongue would not cooperate. The adrenaline induced by their row, coupled with his kisses and caressing fingers seemed to have accelerated her own arousal to the point that thinking and logic had gone out of the window. All she knew was that her body, which had gone so long without knowing the intimacies of love, was now making up for lost time and crying out to be fulfilled.

Her skin seemed to be on fire, and every touch from his skilful fingers was stoking the need within her. She groaned with frustration when, sliding his hands beneath her, he unhooked her bra and pulled it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor, before kissing each nipple fleetingly, and for not nearly long enough.

"Well?" he asked, raising his head and looking at her. He was breathing heavily, but there was a steely glint of determination in his eyes. "Go on, do you want me to carry on, yes or no."

She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the yearning that was coursing through her and think clearly, but it was proving very difficult. She wanted to say no, to stop and send him away; it was the sensible thing to do, and would ensure that her life and sanity remained on an even keel, but her body was having none of it. It had been starved of this kind of affection for too long; she could worry about the consequences afterwards. Anyway, as Ginny had said, she should take what was rightfully hers by law, for if she didn't, some other woman would. The image of the dark-skinned beauty Draco had been flirting with sprang into her mind with surprising clarity, and she scowled.

"Well?" he prompted again, nuzzling the valley between her breasts and making her gasp as his jaw grazed the sensitive skin.

"Yes," she whispered in a hoarse voice, trying to pull him close, but he grasped her wrist and stopped her.

"Yes what, Hermione?" he continued, giving her stomach a quick lick. "Let's be clear about this, do you want me to make love to you?"

She bit her lip in annoyance. "Yes," she said again, voice scratchy. How much confirmation did the man need for Merlin's sake? Wasn't the way she was behaving proof enough?

"Oh no, my dear, that won't do at all, say it. Say that you want me to make love to you." Taking a nipple between finger and thumb, he pinched gently, making her whimper. The git, he knew exactly what he was doing to her and was enjoying watching her squirm.

"Yes," she snapped, the frustration evident in her voice. "What more do you want?"

"Say it. Say that you want me to make love to you. Misunderstandings cost me five years last time; I'm not making that mistake again, so say it!" He gave her nipple another pinch as he spoke.

Damn him, she closed her mouth determinedly. She wasn't that desperate that she needed to beg, thank you very much. A moment later however, when he divested her of her dress and panties and began to caress the tops of her thighs with skilled fingers, she doubted this.

"Fine," she relented as he caressed the sensitised bundle of nerves between her legs before withdrawing his hand. "I want you to make love to me, happy?" The tiny part of her that wasn't consumed with desire and arousal winced at the obvious need that laced her voice.

"Oh yes!" he smirked, pulling her now naked body against his and starting to kiss her deeply. When he had undressed, she had no idea, and didn't care as he kissed and nibbled at one taut nipple, then the other. Sliding up her body, he caught her mouth in a passionate kiss that left nothing to the imagination, and she kissed him back, enjoying the feel of his hard muscular body under her hands as she let them roam over him.

Sliding his hand down her flat stomach, he caressed her inner thighs before slipping a finger into her. He added a second, then a third, and she felt him stretch her in readiness for what was to come while massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs with his thumb. She groaned and felt herself become light-headed as he continued to stimulate her in a way she had forgotten was possible.

Bending, he took a nipple between his teeth, licking and sucking on the sensitive flesh while pinching the other nipple so that she gripped the sheet as pleasure lanced through her. She wasn't sure if she cried out as she came apart. She finally opened her eyes to see him bending over her wearing a satisfied smirk.

"Okay?" he asked, and she nodded, still feeling dazed. He caught her mouth in another heated kiss and moved over her. His gaze holding hers, he entered her slowly. When he was buried fully inside her, he held still, allowing her body to adjust to the intrusion before starting to move within her.

His eyes never left her face as he began to increase his pace, while kissing her and murmuring endearments she couldn't catch. She caught her breath as she wrapped her legs around his waste, urging him deeper, her body once again craving the release that only he seemed to be able to give it with such ease. She felt herself tighten around him and cried out as for the second time that evening, waves of pleasure hit her, and she saw pinpricks of light dancing before her eyes.

Draco's breathing was harsh, and with a grunt, he too went over the edge, convulsing within her until he was spent. Collapsing on her, his muscles relaxed, and he pressed his face into her shoulder. Sliding his arms around her, he turned them so they were lying on their sides facing each other, limbs entangled and bodies still joined. There was silence in the room as they both caught their breath.

Hermione lay back, feeling contented and fulfilled knowing that she had enjoyed every second of their lovemaking. She yawned widely, feeling drowsiness rolling over her and smiled to herself. She felt Draco slide out of her as he pulled the silk sheet over them both and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. Tomorrow she would deal with the aftermath of her impulsiveness, but for now, she felt far too good to even think about it.

"'Night, Hermione," Draco said sleepily before kissing her swollen mouth lingeringly.

"'Night," she responded tiredly, closing her eyes and letting sleep overtake her.

XoXoXoXo

The house was quiet as Hermione went downstairs wondering where Draco and Aurora were. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the hall, and was surprised to see that it was almost 11. She felt well-rested and had taken a longer shower than usual, her mind languid as she tried to think objectively about her actions of the night before. She marvelled again that she had slept until ten AM, something she'd not done since Aurora's birth, and was relieved that it was the weekend. If it had been a weekday, she would have been seriously late for work.

"Mistress?"

Turning, Hermione looked down at the house-elf standing before her smiling.

"Master says that he and Miss Aurora are on the east terrace, and to come out there when you're ready. What would Mistress like for breakfast?"

"Um, nothing thanks," Hermione replied, and the elf's ears drooped.

"Master says that Mistress has to eat breakfast so Ami must make something or Master will be angry," the elf gabbled, twisting the tea towel it wore between agitated fingers.

Sighing in exasperation at the elf's cringing manner, Hermione bit her lip. She had tried in vain to get the house-elves to call her by her first name, but her pleas had fallen on deaf ears. The creatures were so set in their ways they refused to change. Also, it seemed that Draco's word was law for them, no matter what she did or said, and she had so far not been able to override any order he had given. She thought back to her brief campaign to free house-elves during her fourth and fifth years and smiled at the futility of it. The Malfoys' elves would probably die of shock if she was to offer them clothes.

Deciding she didn't feel in the mood for an argument with the creature, she shrugged. "Well in that case, coffee and rolls would be nice."

It nodded, and with a crack, vanished, leaving her alone. Swiftly, she opened the door of the breakfast room and crossed to the doors leading out onto a sun-drenched terrace bordering a sloping green lawn. A light breeze swayed the branches of the trees, the leaves of which were starting to turn gold in the early September sunshine. Stepping out, she saw Draco and Aurora seated in folding chairs with quills, ink, and parchment set out in front of them.

"Mummy! There you are," her daughter greeted cheerfully, smiling up at her.

Hermione bent and kissed her, then drew up a chair beside her and sat down.

"Morning," Draco smiled, eyes skimming lazily over her. "Sleep well?"

"Yes, thanks," she responded, determinedly meeting his gaze with a cool look of her own which only seemed to amuse him.

Then turning to Aurora, she asked in a bright voice, "What are you doing?"

"We're witing," came the prompt response. "Daddy thinks it's time I learned."

"I agree," Hermione said, picking up the parchment on which were scrawled the letters of the alphabet in Aurora's round, unformed hand.

At that moment, the house-elf to whom she had been talking appeared with a large tray containing enough food for five people, which it set on the table before her, and then vanished.

"Can I have a roll, Mummy?" Aurora asked, eyeing the basket of freshly-baked rolls hopefully.

"Where do you put all that food, angel?" Draco laughed. "You had breakfast not so long ago."

Hermione buttered a roll and handed it to the child before taking one herself. She felt hungry, another first for her in the morning, and bit into the crusty roll with relish.

"It's nice to see that you have an appetite today," Draco drawled. "Coffee?" Not waiting for a response, he poured her a steaming cup, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar, which surprised her.

"Don't look so shocked, my dear. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't know how my wife took her coffee?" He leaned over and handed her the cup, his fingers brushing deliberately over hers.

"It's time we gave some thought to Madam's schooling," he continued casually, adding cream to his own coffee. "She'll be five soon, and is getting a little old for my Aunt's nursery, don't you think?" He ruffled Aurora's curls as he spoke.

Hermione swallowed her mouthful and turned to look at him. "I had enrolled her in a Muggle school not too far from us, but term doesn't start for another two weeks."

"Do I have to go there?" Aurora complained. "It was howid and I had to wear a uniform and they couldn't fly there either."

"It wasn't horrid, and they couldn't fly because they were Muggles. Kingswood is a good school," her mother replied, taking a sip of her coffee and admitting reluctantly that it was just as she liked it.

"I'm sure it is, but still it's impractical to send her there now," Draco persisted. "I've been giving the matter some thought, and think that a tutor would be the best thing for her, especially as we're out all day."

She sighed. She knew that wizarding families who could afford it employed tutors to teach their children until they went to Hogwarts. Some like the Weasley's were taught by their parents, but this tended to be due to lack of funds more than anything else. While she could see the reasoning behind this form of tuition, she had hoped to send Aurora to a Muggle school, to learn to integrate with other children and develop her social skills, things that could not be achieved if she were taught alone.

"Well, I'm not so sure," she started tentatively. "I can see the merits of having one-on-one tuition, but her social skills wouldn't be developed, and it's important to interact with children of her own age as well."

Draco set down his cup and frowned. "No school can give her the same education as a tutor could. As for her social skills, she wouldn't be isolated; she has friends in the wizarding world who she'd play with. None of us lacked the skills when we went to Hogwarts; you're worrying too much."

Aurora was watching them intently, having finished her roll. She wore a thoughtful expression that normally preceded the announcement of some odd idea or plan and Hermione wondered what she'd come out with.

"Well, if we had a baby like Auntie Ginny and Uncle Hawwy, I wouldn't be alone, and so my skills would be okay." She grinned broadly.

Hermione almost choked on her coffee, and hoped colour wasn't flooding into her cheeks. "I told you before, no," she said with a frown.

Aurora hadn't mentioned the subject of the baby since she'd seen Rose a few days ago and Hermione had hoped that she'd given up on it, but obviously not.

"What's all this about?" Draco asked in perplexity.

"I wanted Mummy to get us a baby like Auntie Ginny's but she said no," Aurora explained in a rush before Hermione could open her mouth. "Then I said I'd ask you, but she said no to that as well. But I want a baby, Daddy! I can play with it, and Mummy won't have to think I'd be on my own."

"Yes, that's true, angel, but you need better reasons than that to have a baby. Mind you," his eyes moved to Hermione with a gleam, "these things do happen."

Knowing exactly what he was referring to, she stared coolly back. "No, don't even go there. I took precautions."

"What?" Aurora asked, then reverted back to her former subject. "So what do you think, Daddy? Can we have a baby as well? I told Mummy it could sleep in my woom so me and Tiger can look after it. Please, Daddy, please?"

"Babies aren't dolls that you play with when you want to, darling," Hermione smiled in spite of herself, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Evewyone at school has babies at home, only I don't. Why can't we get one?"

"Because they're not easy to find," Draco answered, the corners of his mouth twitching.

She ignored him, and turning to her mother, said, "But Auntie Ginny said that you were getting bwoody and that Daddy could help you get a baby if you wanted and-"

"Aurora! That's enough! Go and get that book with the moving letters that we got last week and we can read it," Hermione interrupted hurriedly, face flaming.

She had half a mind to make her own escape and go with Aurora, but Draco, sensing her intentions, leapt from his chair and pulled her down into hers while perching on the arm.

"Ami's making gingerbread men, Princess," he tempted, looking at Aurora. "Why don't you go and ask her if you can have some? I bet they've just come out of the oven!" He licked his lips and grinned.

Aurora, distracted, scrambled from her chair and scampered into the house, her eyes shining at this unexpected treat, babies forgotten for the time being.

"Now," Draco resumed, turning to a highly discomforted Hermione. "What's this about you becoming broody?"

"It's Aurora talking nonsense and you know it." She pulled her arm from his grasp and made to stand, but once again he stopped her.

"You were always a bad liar," he said, wrapping an arm about her shoulders and bending, kissing her cheek. "So come on, tell me. If you don't, Aurora will."

She wished that she and Ginny had been a bit more circumspect in their conversation, but Aurora had been busy with the Bertie Bott beans. Even if she did hear something, she rarely repeated it. Today however, was the exception, and Hermione wanted to groan. Aurora couldn't have picked a better time if she had tried.

She raised her chin haughtily, but he only laughed, his arm tightening around her. "So come on then. What was it that you were saying?"

Knowing that he wouldn't give up until his curiosity had been satisfied, she said, "It's just a conversation Ginny and I were having, that's all."

"A conversation in which she said that you were getting broody?" he suggested mildly.

"Oh, you know Ginny. She seems to think that just because she's had a baby, the rest of the world should do the same." An image of Rose's tiny helpless form rose up in her mind, and she bit her lip.

"Hmm, very shallow of her," he agreed. "But that doesn't explain why she thinks that you're becoming broody."

"I told you, she's looking at the world through tinted glasses and seems to think that me and every other woman she knows is broody and should have a child," she dismissed.

"I see." There was a pause, then he continued, "Do you think she's right? After all, she is your closest female friend, and is better qualified than most to make such an assumption."

"No, I don't!" she replied vehemently, but he only smiled. "As I said, she's a bit off balance at the moment, and so is imagining things that aren't there."

"Of course," he agreed silkily. "You know, it's no crime to want a child. For all we know, you may be pregnant right now. "

This time she managed to wriggle out of his grasp and quickly stood up. "I told you, I'm not. I took precautions when we got married."

She thought she saw a look of disappointment cloud his eyes for a moment, then it was gone to be replaced with a thoughtful frown. "Precautions? Why? For someone who insisted that ours was to be a 'marriage of convenience', you were certainly well prepared! It almost makes me think that you expected us to sleep together."

"Of course not. I just couldn't trust you that's all and thought it best to be prepared," she retorted, deciding not to tell him that her main reason for taking the contraceptive potion was to help regulate her own system which had not been functioning as it should in recent months. That it had carried out the purpose for which had it had been meant, was a welcome bonus to her.

His expression was unreadable as he said, "I see! Well, you know what the solution is if you are becoming broody."

Deciding not to answer this, she turned away. "I'd better see what Aurora's doing," she threw over her shoulder as she hurried into the house, her cheeks still warm.

She frowned, trying to make sense of their conversation, but was unable to come up with a reason as to why he had been so interested in her conversation with Ginny. His whole manner had been different, more relaxed and well…happy, that was until he had learned that she had taken steps to prevent any consequences from the night before. Men, she decided, were an entity apart, where logic and reasoning, attributes she valued highly, played no part. One thing she did know was that last night had changed something between them. Exactly what, she couldn't fathom, but something was definitely different.

In truth, she had no regrets about the night before, and wondered how he was feeling about it. She only wished that it would have no impact on their day to day relationship, and smiled at the futility of such a hope. She would think about the incomprehensibility of it all later on, and with an effort, pushed the matter from her mind. Her immediate concern was Aurora, who was probably overindulging on gingerbread men in the kitchen, and would make herself sick if not stopped.


	15. Chapter 14

Authors Note: I'm so sorry for the late update of this story. I hope the long chapter makes up for it.

Chapter Fourteen

"You've been married for ta month now and this is the first time I've seen you since," Andromeda reproved her nephew, her expression mock-serious as she glanced round the cosy sitting room in Malfoy Manor.

Draco shrugged. "Well Aunt, my time isn't my own so much any more, I've a wife and child to think about now."

"It's a real shame that Hermione isn't here this afternoon," she sighed. "I had hoped that you'd both be home."

"She'd already promised her parents that she and Aurora would spend the afternoon with them," he explained. "If she'd known you were coming, she would have cancelled the visit."

"Why did you not accompany them?" she asked, seating herself in a deep armchair.

"I had some paperwork to catch up on. What would you like to drink? A crate of wines was delivered just the other day from the Italian vineyards."

"Sounds wonderful."

She waited until he had ordered the wine before asking, "So, how are you finding marriage?"

"OK thanks," he replied blandly, sitting down opposite her. There was a reason for his aunt's unexpected call, but as yet, he hadn't worked it out. He hoped she would come to the point quickly, he had a lot to get through before Hermione and Aurora returned.

"I must admit I was very surprised by your sudden engagement. I wasn't aware that you had known Hermione before," she commented in a would be casual voice, eyes alight with curiosity.

So this was the reason for her visit, he should have guessed. She wasn't one to prolong the niceties longer than she could help and today was no exception. "Oh, yes, a while back," he evaded, but she was not to be put off.

"Draco, I'm your aunt for Merlin's sake, not some stranger! Surely I've a right to know how you and Hermione met, and, more particularly, about Aurora's parentage."

"What about it?" he asked hiding a smirk. "If I recall correctly, you told me in no uncertain terms that such things didn't matter. "

"Well, of course not, but I'm curious. Who wouldn't be?" came the irritated response.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt, but there's nothing to tell. Hermione and I met in your nursery that day and things went from there," he drawled, enjoying the effect of these words.

She didn't disappoint and let out an unbelieving snort. "If I believed that, I would believe anything. What do you take me for? Unfortunately, I've not had the chance to ask Cissy about all this yet. Things were hectic enough while she was here and I didn't like to interfere, and now Steven and she have gone off to some place in the Andes!"

Draco bit back a grin. He could imagine his aunt's frustration at not knowing something she felt she ought to know. He was forestalled from replying by the arrival of Ami with the wine. The elf poured the crimson liquid into glasses and disappeared with a crack.

"As I was saying," she resumed, "that day, it was obvious to anyone with two brain cells that you and Hermione had met before. Why, the tension between you was thicker than freshly churned butter."

She was, of course, referring to the memorable day that he had learned of Aurora's parentage. "Well, yes," he said hesitantly. Then deciding that it was easier to tell her rather than put up with her constant questions, he gave her a brief outline of the events of that day and the reasons for them.

When he had finished, she looked stunned. "All this time, Aurora was yours and you didn't know? But that's incredible."

"That's what I said. I told you she looked like me, didn't I? When I first met her, I told you there was something familiar about her."

"Yes, but I thought you were imagining it. No wonder you were furious that day you and Hermione met."

"Ah well, it's all in the past now," he smiled, eyes resting on a photo of Hermione, Aurora and himself taken at his wedding.

"Is it?" she asked, also studying the photo. "I can't imagine that Hermione was too pleased to welcome you into her life, she seems rather self-sufficient."

"Well, not at first. Then she realised how her being unmarried would affect Aurora. I've you to thank for that, Aunt."

She blinked in surprise as she took another sip of the fragrant wine. "How so?"

"Some of the children at your nursery were picking on Aurora because of Hermione's single status."

"When was this?" she asked sharply, eyes narrowing into slits as they rested on him.

"A few weeks before our marriage."

"I'm sorry about that; you know how I dislike discrimination of any kind. I'll make sure it won't happen again."

"No, of course not now that we're married. It proved to be a blessing in disguise," he smiled. "It made Hermione see sense anyway."

"It's still not right though. Who was it, do you know?"

"Oh yes, but don't worry, Aunt, I too don't forget easily. They'll pay." His expression hardened as he remembered the three children who had caused Aurora so much misery; they would pay all right.

"No, I'll handle it," she said. "Our definitions of the word 'pay' are very different. Now, who were they?"

He hesitated for a moment, then said, "The Zabini brat, the Mullings girl, and the Creevey boy." If his aunt insisted on dealing with the brats, who was he to stop her? Anyway, a double dose of punishment would not go amiss.

"Right, I'll deal with them. Leave it with me." He nodded and she went on. "How are things between you and Hermione?"

"Fine."

"Really? I find that hard to believe. Hermione's a very independent young woman, she can't have been happy about the marriage."

"I told you, we both wanted to do what was best for Aurora, personal feelings were irrelevant," he lied.

"Rubbish," she contradicted bluntly. "For Hermione maybe, but not for you. You would never have gone through with it for Aurora's sake alone, there had to be something in it for you as well." She was silent for a moment, and he could almost see the thoughts churning around in her head. "Merlin, it was her, wasn't it? All those years ago, it was Hermione."

This was the reason that he had avoided spending any length of time with his aunt since his marriage. The woman's ability to add up facts that had not even been presented was unnerving. He knew exactly what she was referring to, but wasn't going to admit it.

"What?" he frowned in assumed perplexity.

"The young woman you were in love with before you left for America, during the war. It was Hermione wasn't it? It makes sense now, Aurora being almost five. What I want to know is why Hermione didn't contact you when she knew she was pregnant."

He got up, sauntering over to the window and stared out. The day was murky and overcast, the sun hidden by a bank of grey clouds.

"Well?" Andromeda prompted from behind him.

"Well what? I don't know why she didn't contact me, I wish she had," he responded flatly.

"I know that muggles don't consider single parentage to be a big thing. Ted's cousin's boyfriend left her and she bought her boy up alone and as far as I know, the muggles never said a word," she said, disapproval evident in her voice. "It's not healthy for a child to be brought up in such a way, it gives them an unbalanced view of life."

"Don't get me started on muggles," he muttered turning away from the window. "Thanks to their weird customs, I missed the first four years and seven months of my daughter's life."

There was a pause as both thought about this. Then in an effort to distract him, Andromeda asked, "So, getting back to my earlier question, how are things between you and Hermione?"

"As I said, fine." A smile curved Draco's lips as he thought of the night before last.

"In what respect?"

He sighed dramatically. "You never give up, do you? They are fine in all respects."

"I see." She fixed him with a piercing look which he returned. Then she went on, "So, can we expect any more children from you?"

"You're full of questions today. Have you never heard of privacy?" he countered coolly.

She laughed. "Not where you're concerned. So can we?"

"We'll see." He thought of Hermione, so determined not to admit that she wanted more children; if he played his cards right, she would soon give in to her maternal instincts. However, his nosy aunt didn't need to know that.

"Well, I hope it all works out for you. Mind you, your rune proclamation predicted it would. I was quite envious when I saw it."

"Yes, it was a pleasant surprise. I wasn't too keen on the grey, but the gold…" he agreed thoughtfully.

"Oh I wouldn't let it worry you, everyone has some bad times. I don't know of anyone who didn't have some grey in their proclamations. Who do you know who hasn't had disharmony and discord at some point throughout their marriage?"

"True," he conceded. "The blue is ok as well, unity and togetherness - always a welcome strength in any relationship."

"Ah, the gold though…" Andromeda smiled. "Real happiness and love. Not many people are lucky enough for that."

Draco too smiled, remembering the way the runes had glowed pure gold before fading into nothingness. "They did though for you and Uncle Ted, didn't they?"

"Yes. It's why we've been so happy together no matter the obstacles we've had to face." She was referring to her family's prejudicial attitudes towards her husband.

The sound of voices reached them, and he pulled open the door of the sitting room. Hermione and Aurora were standing by the fireplace, brushing themselves off vigorously.

"Hermione, how nice to see you!" Andromeda exclaimed stepping past Draco into the hall. "I was hoping that I'd find you both at home but Draco said you were visiting your parents, I hope they're well?"

"Oh yes, thank you," Hermione replied, brushing the last of the soot from Aurora's jumper and straightening.

"Hello darling," Andromeda smiled at Aurora. "Can I have a hug?" Bending, she pulled the child into her arms. "My, how you've grown! Soon you'll be as tall as me."

"Weally? When?"

"In a few years or so," Andromeda replied.

Draco lead the way into the sitting room, taking a seat on the sofa beside Hermione. Opposite them, Andromeda gave them a speculative glance.

Aurora settled herself in a chair by the window, producing a packet of crayons from her pocket. "Can I have some paper?" she asked.

With a flick of his wand, Draco produced a large sheet of drawing paper, handing it to her.

Andromeda watched her for a moment, then turning to Hermione and Draco she asked, "So have you decided about Aurora's schooling yet? She's almost five now. I know of some excellent tutors if you need introductions."

"I enrolled her into a primary school not too far from us," Hermione answered defensively. "It's a very good school."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Aurora, looking up, beat him to it. "No it's not, it's howwid!" she contradicted. "Auntie, they don't fly there or anything."

"I don't suppose they would, it being a muggle school," Andromeda smiled. Then turning to Hermione, she asked, "But my dear, is it a good idea to send her to a muggle school? What if she lets loose some accidental magic? She's only a child after all, and one with a volatile temper."

Draco smiled to himself; he hadn't considered that possibility, and from the look on Hermione's face, neither had she.

"Hmm, yes, that's a thought," he put in mildly.

"But I don't want her to be taught alone. At least in a school, she'll have the social interaction she needs. It's important for children to cooperate with other children, to learn social skills, team work, that kind of thing," Hermione protested.

"Very true," the older woman agreed. Draco wondered what she was thinking, but her expression remained neutral as she looked between them.

"Apart from the problem of accidental magic, the education she'll receive from a tutor will be much more thorough than she'd ever get in any school," he challenged.

"I know that, but still…" Hermione argued.

"There is another solution," Andromeda put in quietly and they both turned to her. "I can understand where you're both coming from, Ted and I had similar worries when Nymphadora was a child. In the end, we compromised; she was taught by tutors but not alone. We persuaded some of the other parents of children of her age to allow their children to be taught with her. That way, we had the best of both worlds and it suited everyone. There were only four children but she wasn't alone and that was the important thing. Nymphadora did the same with her two, it's working out very well for her."

Draco frowned in thought; his aunt had put forward a reasonable solution. As she said, Aurora wouldn't be alone but at the same time, would be getting the best education that money could buy. He glanced at Hermione, and saw that she was looking thoughtful. "What do you think?" he asked her.

"I don't know. I suppose it could work, but who would want to share tutors?"

"Oh that won't be a problem," Andromeda assured. "There are plenty of children whose parents will be more than glad. For one thing, it'll bring down the cost of hiring the tutors. Aurora had plenty of friends at nursery, ask the parents of those children with whom she got on best. They'll jump at the chance."

"We might just do that," Draco smiled.

"Don't ask Annabelle, she's howwid," Aurora instructed glancing up.

"We won't," he replied, an idea slipping into his mind.

"Well, I've taken up enough of your time and had better be off," the older woman smiled getting to her feet. "Let me know what you decide about Aurora's schooling, I know some very good tutors."

XoXoXoXo

The sun had set over an hour ago and a sliver of moon was visible amongst the clouds. Draco stared, unseeing, at the sky, his whole body tense and on edge. Where was Hermione? Once again, the voice of her secretary rang loudly in his head, "She's gone to lunch with an old St Mungo's colleague, Adam I think she said the name was."

The ping of the entrance alarm sounded behind him and he turned, glancing at the panel beneath the clock. Hermione had just apparated into the apparition chamber. He moved to the door, then checked himself. He would wait until she appeared.

Ten minutes later, the door of the sitting room was pushed open and Hermione entered, looking weary. She had changed out of her healers robes into comfortable trousers and a top. Draco surveyed her coolly as she sat down opposite him and Ami handed her a mug of steaming hot chocolate.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" he asked with a frown as she took a sip of the frothing liquid.

"No thanks, I grabbed something earlier and am not hungry."

The elf disappeared with a crack leaving them alone. Draco's eyes moved to the clock, the hands of which pointed to 09:30. "Is there a reason why you're so late home?" he asked in a deceptively casual voice which gave no hint at his underlying anger and frustration.

"I said this morning that I may be late back," she responded irritably. "The project I was working on took longer to complete than I'd anticipated."

"I see."

"Anyway, why the lecture?" she retorted stretching. "You knew where I was, so what's the problem?"

He took a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his temper under control. There were times when he wanted to shake Hermione until her teeth rattled and this was one of them. "The problem is that you've been late home every night this week. I know that your work is important to you, but so is Aurora. You barely spend any time with her before it's her bedtime, do you think that's conducive to a good relationship with her?" In truth, Aurora was rarely phased by her mother's lateness, but he was growing tired of it.

"She knows where I am and why," she shot back. "It's not my fault that life's a bit hectic at the moment." Her expression was defiant as she spoke.

"That doesn't make it right," he persisted and she scowled.

"That's life Draco, whether we like it or not. Get used to it."

He knew that shouting would get him nowhere and so changed his approach. Getting up, he crossed the room, seating himself on the sofa beside her. "I'm not disagreeing with you," he said, in a more gentle voice, knowing that if they continued arguing, she would never listen to anything he had to say. "All I'm saying is that things aren't the same as they were. There's no need for you to put long hours into the hospital every day. The pressures that once rested on your shoulders are no longer there, so why not make the most of it?"

She was frowning at him, disconcerted by the sudden turn in the conversation. He took advantage of her distraction and slid an arm round her, drawing her head onto his shoulder. "Look at you, you're exhausted," he continued, lightly tracing one of the dark circles beneath her eyes with the tip of his finger. "You need to relax more and take time out for yourself."

"That's all well and good, but the department won't run itself if I'm not there," she replied dryly, leaning back against him. "Anyway, I've already been accused of not being committed enough to my job, there's no need to add fuel to the fire."

"By whom?" he asked, surprised.

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. The point is, I can't help being late on occasions. I'd rather it didn't happen but there's rarely anything I can do about it. Anyway, Aurora sees me in the morning, and as long as one of us is here in the mornings and evenings, there's not a problem."

"Who said you didn't have enough commitment to your job?" he persisted, stroking a finger down her cheek. He had a feeling that this conversation would go a long way in helping him to understand what motivated her, and was keen to prolong it.

She hesitated for a moment then said, "Isabel. She wasn't pleased when I was elected to the board and got the position of head of department."

"Who, Isabel Winterton?" At her nod he continued, "I wouldn't worry about anything she says, it's ok for her. Her children are grown up and she can devote all the time she likes to her research. You, on the other hand, have other priorities and she needs to understand that."

She smiled tiredly and he felt a surge of protectiveness go through him. Carefully he eased her into an upright position. Then with a deft movement, pulled her onto his lap.

"I don't think-" She began stiffening, but he put a finger against her lips silencing her.

"Shh, relax. You're not at the hospital any more," he said, settling her more comfortably against him and leaning back. "Now, about Isabel, don't worry about what she says. The important thing is how you feel about things."

She gave him a puzzled glance. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it can't have been easy climbing the promotional ladder to the top in such a short space of time," he replied blandly. "You must have had to put in some pretty gruelling hours. Hanwell's being newly opened probably helped as they aren't steeped in tradition like St Mungo's."

"No, that's why I switched. St Mungo's wasn't giving me the opportunities I wanted," she admitted, putting her head onto his shoulder.

He nodded, one hand stroking her hair absently. "Hanwell's is certainly unique in that aspect. If you have talent, they'll use it regardless of how junior you may be. Quite Slytherin of them, one might say."

She laughed softly. "I suppose, but it helped me get to where I am today and that's what matters."

"Ah, but Hermione, the question remains, are you happy with where you are today?" he asked, giving her an intent look she had trouble meeting.

"Of course!" she replied a little too quickly, attempting to stand up, but sensing her intention, he tightened his arm around her.

"Hmm, I wonder," he murmured, drawing her head back onto his shoulder.

"What do you wonder?" she asked, in a slightly defensive tone.

Looking into her face, he chose his next words with care. "Whether you truly enjoy your job. As a single parent, your main aim would have been to ensure that you and Aurora had enough to live on and the only way to do that was by moving upwards. Now, money is no longer a deciding factor, so maybe it's time to reconsider your career plans?"

He waited, hoping that he hadn't overstepped the mark by his suggestion.

"How so?" she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.

"Oh I don't know, maybe change your focus so that you do what you want to do and not what you need to in order to survive," he suggested mildly.

She sighed deeply, leaning back against him and smothering a yawn. "It's a thought but it's not as simple as that. I can't just drop what I'm doing and do what I want to."

"I agree, but maybe start focusing on the subjects you're interested in and let others take over those you don't enjoy so much."

"Maybe." She was silent for a moment, then asked, "How about you? Did you have a good day?"

"It was fine thanks. Long but that's nothing new."

There was a pause in which they stared at one another, neither sure of the other's thoughts. Afterwards, Draco couldn't remember which of them moved first, but next moment their arms were wrapped around each other, mouths meting in a long, demanding kiss. It was she who slipped her tongue past his lips and entwined it with his, her fingers tangling in his hair. He pushed her unresisting form down onto the sofa and, bending his head, began to suck and nip at the skin of her jaw, while she writhed in pleasure beneath him.

Their mouths met once more, tongues battling for dominance as their bodies strained together. Then she pulled away, and began sprinkling kisses down the side of his neck, her hand sliding under his t-shirt to the fastener of his jeans.

"No, not here," he breathed, reluctantly removing her hand, "Come on."

She frowned at him, as though unable to make sense of his words. Taking advantage of her dazed state, he pulled her up and lead her from the room. He wanted to get her upstairs before she had a chance to think of objections. He caressed and fondled her as he guided her up the stairs and into his room.

The candles were lit and the bed turned down when they entered. Pushing the door shut with his foot, Draco turned to Hermione and pulled her into his arms, kissing her fiercely as he moved towards the bed. To his delight, she responded by kissing him back, putting her arms round him as he pushed her down on to the mattress. The next few minutes were spent undressing each other, and soon they were both naked, their clothes lying where they had been thrown. Thoughts were suspended as they kissed and stroked, both intent on giving as well as receiving pleasure. Draco hadn't been aware that she was such a passionate and sensual creature under the hardened exterior, but she certainly gave as good as she got, raking her nails down his back as he bit her shoulder. Finally he took her fiercely, as she arched beneath him. Their gasps and moans were swallowed by the night around them, and in some dim recess of his mind, Draco knew that this coupling, unlike the last, was comprised as much of anger as any other emotion.

Afterwards they lay sated, limbs entwined as their breathing returned to normal. Draco pulled the duvet over them, tucking Hermione's warm body against him.

"Ok?" he asked drowsily, kissing her lingeringly.

"Hmm, yes," came the muffled response. There was a pause, then she said, "This is becoming a habit."

"Yes, and?" he responded guardedly, not needing to ask what she was referring to. Clearly her faculties, which had been dulled, were coming back to life again.

"Well…" she trailed off, shrugging.

"There's nothing wrong in this, Hermione. We're married, in case you'd forgotten." He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice.

She sighed, brow furrowed in thought. Propping herself up on one elbow, she said, "But it doesn't make sense, all this I mean, it just doesn't add up."

Not attempting to work out what she meant, he pulled her down beside him again. "What doesn't add up?"

"Well, all this." She waved a hand between them. "Before we got married, you were insistent that this would be a marriage of convenience, why, you were quite insulting about it. Now look at us! What made you change your mind?"

He groaned inwardly. Why now of all times did she have to bring that up? The woman's timing left a lot to be desired. "A person can change their mind can they not? If I recall correctly, I wasn't the only one who was adamant on that point. For Merlin's sake, you wanted to include it in our marriage vows," he responded swiftly.

"That was different, I had to go through with the marriage -"

"Oh no you didn't," he interrupted, annoyed. "You had as much choice in the matter as I did, as well you know." Then, forcing himself to calm down, he continued, "Sometimes it's better to just accept things without questioning too closely. Our marriage is turning out as good as any, surely that's good enough for you?"

"We hardly know each other, and we're sleeping together. Doesn't that bother you?"

He was silent for a moment, then said, "Yes, it does, but that can be put right if only you'd let it, Hermione. There's a lot about each other we don't know, but as the rune proclamation predicted, if given the chance we'd have the perfect relationship. Not many can say that!"

She let out a mirthless laugh. "There's too much history between us for that to happen. It was simple before. Now… well, things are so much more complex."

"Hence why we have to work at our relationship, and that means spending time with each other and building up trust. For instance, what is there between you and Adam Hamilton?" He couldn't help slipping this question in, knowing that he wouldn't rest until he knew.

Her eyes widened in surprise at the question and for a moment he thought she wouldn't answer. Then, in a flat voice, she replied, "Nothing."

"But your secretary said that you had lunch with him today, I myself heard you making arrangements to do so last week. That doesn't amount to nothing," he argued, determined to get a proper answer from her.

She gave a resigned shrug. "Draco, we're friends, nothing more. Last week, Adam was telling me about his muggle girlfriend who wasn't taking the news of him being a wizard too well. I offered to help, being muggleborn, and we agreed to have lunch so she and I could meet."

"Did you meet her today?" he asked, unable to help himself.

"Yes. It was interesting, she's still trying to get used to the idea that magic exists. Poor girl, it can't be easy."

"Why couldn't you have told me this last week?" he grumbled, as relief swept through him.

"You didn't ask. Anyway, why the fuss?"

He closed his eyes in exasperation. "Trust Hermione, that's what."

"Ah, but we agreed that we could each see other people, remember?" She smiled sweetly at him, and he wanted to shake her.

"That was then, this is now," he shot back. "Things are different now, as you pointed out."

"In that case, maybe you wouldn't mind telling me who that woman was you were flirting with last week. You were all over each other," she said giving him a sharp look.

The annoyance in her voice told him more plainly than words that she had minded very much and the irritation he had been feeling vanished. "Oh, that was Annette Baines, we've met on a number of occasions." The narrowing of her eyes told him that she wasn't satisfied with his answer and so he continued, "Even if I did want to get her into bed, which I don't, she wouldn't be interested. She chases for her own team. In fact, she was quite taken with you, asked a lot about you. You're more her taste than me," he drawled amused. He watched a look of revulsion cross her face and laughed.

"Not a chance in hell," she muttered going pale.

"I should think not, you're a married woman after all," he teased and, never one to miss an opportunity, kissed her long and hard.

"As I was saying," he continued, lifting his head and looking down at her, "as things have changed, we can't live buy those rules we first discussed."

"What do you mean?" she asked guardedly.

"Well, for a start, we need to spend more time together. At the moment we live almost separate lives, only spending time together when purely necessary. That has to change if we're to get to know each other as people."

She considered this in silence, her expression closed. "Yes, but we each have time consuming jobs. It's all very well you saying that we have to spend more time together but our working lives won't allow that."

"They won't, if we don't want them to," he replied silkily. "Where there's a will, there's a way. Have you never heard of that saying?" To emphasise his point, he pinched her nipple lightly, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from her.

She scowled. "Of course I have."

"Well then, let's say that we each make a concerted effort to be home before 7 every evening. That'd give us a few hours together after Aurora's bedtime," he suggested, settling his hand on her ribcage.

She hesitated, then, to his delight, nodded. "I can't promise that I'll manage it every evening but I can try. You?"

"The same. As long as we both try, that's what matters."

"I suppose." Her words were thoughtful and he frowned. Now, what obstacle had she thought up?

"It's a huge mind shift. One moment we're marrying for convenience, the next, things have all changed."

"That's life Hermione; unpredictable. Who would have thought a year ago that you'd be lying in the bed of your child's father? This way, things are better all round; we are each part of a real and fulfilling relationship and Aurora gets a proper family out of it."

She sighed and sat up. "I guess so."

"Where're you going?" he asked as she made to push back the duvet.

"To my own room of course."

He too sat up, annoyance clouding his features. "What's wrong with staying here?" He pulled her down beside him with an impatient gesture.

"Nothing, it's just that, well… I should get back to my own room."

"Has none of what I've said in the last half hour made an impression on you?" he asked, his former irritation back in spades.

"I'm not used to sharing a bed and…."

"In that case it's high time you did get used to it," he cut in, tucking the duvet in firmly round them while pressing her into the mattress with his body.

She opened her mouth to argue but seemed to think better of it and lay still.

Deciding that he couldn't be bothered to argue further, he yawned and closed his eyes.

"Good night," he murmured sleepily his arms tightening around her,.

"Night," she responded quietly, her head on his shoulder.

XoXoXoXo

It took a while for Aurora's loud voice to penetrate Draco's sleep clouded brain. Reluctantly he stirred, and with an effort opened his eyes. Dawn was poking fingers of light through the partially drawn curtains and he yawned, squinting at the small figure standing at the foot of the bed.

"Aurora, what're you doing here?" he asked in a groggy voice. He could feel Hermione's warm naked body against his own, and other more primitive instincts were quickly coming to life.

"Why isn't Mummy in her own bed?" the child demanded, shooting an accusatory glare at the couple.

"Because she's here with me," Draco replied, now fully awake.

"But why? " the child persisted. "She's always in her own bed. Tell her to go to her own woom." She stamped an angry bare foot for emphasis.

"Aurora, go and put your dressing gown on," Draco ordered, his own temper starting to rise at her demanding and petulant tone which if he but knew it, matched his own when in a temper.

Aurora, however, had no intention of obeying him, instead moving round to Hermione's side of the bed and attempting to pull the duvet off her mother. Swiftly Draco grabbed it, tugging it from her grasp. He didn't think seeing her mother naked would go down too well after finding them together.

"Mummy, wake up, I want breakfast," she demanded loudly.

Beside Draco, Hermione groaned and burrowed further into the bedclothes, clearly still asleep.

"Aurora, I'm not going to tell you again, go to your room and put your dressing gown on," he repeated, picking up his wand from the bedside table.

"But -"

"Now!" he barked and she drew back, unaccustomed to this side of his personality.

"I'll be with you in ten minutes," he continued, pointing his wand at the door which flew open. Aurora shot him a filthy look before marching out and slamming her bedroom door.

Shutting the door with a wave of his wand, Draco scrambled out of bed and into the shower. The last thing he needed was for Aurora to be in a bad mood with him, but at the same time she had to learn that things had changed now and that she didn't have exclusive rights to Hermione. He suspected she wouldn't like sharing but she'd have to accept it. He wondered fleetingly how she would behave if other children came along. She wouldn't like it, but like any true Malfoy, would turn the situation to her own advantage.

A few minutes later, he had showered and was pulling on jeans and a jumper, while bracing himself for the tantrum Aurora was likely to throw. Hermione had told him that she was capable of them but apart from the time she had woken up crying soon after their marriage, he had seen no sign of such behaviour. No doubt things were about to change.

Cautiously he pushed open the door to her room and was relieved to see her curled up on a beanbag flipping through a picture book in apparent contentment.

"You'll catch cold like that," he said, entering the room and moving towards her. "Let's get you washed and dressed."

She scrambled to her feet, flinging the book aside and glared up at him, hands on hips. "Where's Mummy? I want Mummy, not you."

Draco winced but didn't let his smile slip. "Mummy's tired, so is still a sleep."

"Well, wake her up then," she commanded, her stance belligerent, as she scowled up at him.

He fixed her with a cool look, his battened-down temper starting to assert itself. No one talked to him like that, and certainly not his own offspring. "I beg your pardon?" he drawled silkily, and watched in satisfaction as she took a step back.

Instead of apologising, she glowered, jaw thrust forward and eyes narrowed. "I don't want you to dwess me." Her tone however, was merely sulky rather than rude, and he knew that he had made his point.

He shrugged in apparent unconcern and turned to the door. "Fine, suit yourself. I'm off to watch the Shiny Show, see you later."

Her shriek as he made to open the door, was gratifying. "I want to come with you," she blurted, taking a few tentative steps towards him.

"Ah, but you don't want me to dress you, and if you don't get dressed, you'll catch cold and can't come downstairs."

He saw it cost her to say it, but she asked, "Can you dwess me then?"

He smirked to himself, knowing that he had got the better of her. He was prepared to bet that with almost anyone else, Hermione included, she would have had a full blown tantrum.

It was while he was brushing her hair that he casually asked, "So how's Auntie Ginny's baby getting on?"

Her eyes lit up and she turned her head. "She's so little, and Daddy, she still hasn't got any teeth!"

"Well, babies don't."

"I did," she said confidently, as he turned her back to the mirror.

"No babies have teeth when they're very little. That's just the way they are."

She digested this for a moment, then asked, "Didn't you and Mummy have any teeth when you were babies?"

"No, just gums."

"Gwose!" she replied tossing her head and he hid a smile. "But how do they eat then if they don't have any teeth?"

"Babies drink milk."

"I want a baby," she announced. "Can we have one?"

"You'll have to ask Mummy about that. Does she like Aunty Ginny's baby?" he asked, laying down the brush.

"Oh yeah, Mummy's always holding her," came the ready response. "Can we watch the Shiny Show now? You said I could watch it when I was dwessed."

He nodded and lead the way downstairs, his mind busy. The opportunity to question her was too good to miss and he really wanted to satisfy his own curiosity about certain aspects of Hermione's life that had hitherto troubled him.

"Aurora, remember Dennis?" he asked casually as she settled herself on the sofa before the large flat screen television.

"Yeah, he used to buy me sweets when he came to our flat," she replied. "I liked him."

Behind her, Draco stiffened. "Did he now? That is interesting. What else did he do?" Her response had surprised him and it wasn't welcome. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his question but knew he had to know.

"He wanted to help me talk pwoperly."

"Really?"

She nodded, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Yes, he used to come in the evenings and give me words to say which he said would help me talk."

"Where was Mummy when he was doing this?" Draco asked, waving his wand at the television screen, which sprang into life.

"She was there with me," Aurora replied vaguely, as the characters of the Shiny Show pranced onto the screen.

"What did she do?"

"Nothing."

"Did the exercises help you?"

She shrugged disinterestedly. "Sometimes, don't know weally."

He took a deep breath. He would not jump to conclusions, he wouldn't. He sat back, watching as the show progressed, wishing that Hermione would be more forthcoming about this odd sounding arrangement. He doubted she would tell him much if he asked so it was safest if he met this Dennis person for himself. He could then assess whether the man was a danger to him and, if so, take the necessary steps to deal with him.

It was one of the many things that was unresolved between them and he sighed deeply as he contemplated the many aspects of Hermione's life that had nothing to do with him.

As was becoming his habit lately, he slid the platinum wedding band from his finger and went over to the windows. He peered at the tiny engravings etched around the sides of the ring and, as he had thought, they had not changed from when Hermione had slid it onto his finger a few weeks ago.

"Daddy, what're you doing?" Aurora asked unexpectedly and, getting up, came over to him.

"It's nothing," he smiled, glancing at her. "Look, the show's almost finished."

"But why were you looking at your ring like that?" She ignored his gesture at the television. "Mummy's ring is like yours but smaller." She peered at the ring in his palm.

"Well they're wedding rings. All wedding rings of any note are made in pairs."

"But what is that?" she persisted, gazing at the runes etched into the band.

He hesitated, then explained, "They're runes, which are special shapes which mean things. These are special runes, though, which show me whether Mummy's ok or not." Even to his own ears, his explanation sounded garbled. However this was her heritage and she had to know sometime.

"I know what runes are," the child dismissed with a toss of her head, "Mummy has them all over her work notes all the time. Why are these special?"

"As I said, they show me whether mummy's ok or not, if she's safe, that kind of thing." The runes showed a lot more than that but there was no need for her to know this yet.

She digested this for a moment, then asked, "So if Mummy's hurt, will you know by looking at your ring?"

"Yes, that's right," he beamed, pleased that she had understood the concept with such ease. His lips curved as he thought of the other things the runes showed him, whether the wearer of the other ring had been unfaithful, whether she was defrauding him in some way, and the tracking charm, which had been an addition of his father's to the rings, would prove a useful tool to any man. Of course, Hermione's ring too had runes etched round the edges but these were much more basic than the ones on his. However, for the ring's power to work, she had to wear hers all the time, something which she had not done in the past.

The door opened and Hermione came in, dressed in her healer's robes, her briefcase under her arm.

"There you are," she said cheerfully, "I wondered where you had both got to when you weren't in the breakfast room."

"And where are you off to in such a hurry?" Draco drawled, sliding his ring back onto his finger, walking across the room and taking her arm. "Come on, Aurora, breakfast time."

"Actually, I promised to meet Alice, one of the other healers for breakfast this morning and so won't join you," Hermione excused hurriedly.

He felt disappointment grip him but kept his face expressionless. "Oh, I see."

Hermione was looking very uncomfortable as she rushed on, "It's the only time we can meet up and it's been arranged for ages." No doubt she was remembering their pact of the night before and feeling guilty – good!

"Ah well, these things can't be helped, although why you can't invite your friends to the manor is a mystery to me," he replied in a deceptively soft voice.

Aurora was watching the scene with interest. Draco suspected that it was rare for anyone to get the better of her mother in this way.

"Oh, I was going to ask you, have you seen Dennis lately?" he asked casually, this was as good a time as any to broach the subject.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "Dennis?"

"Yes, that muggle speech therapist Aurora was seeing, remember?"

"Of course, I'm only surprised that you do."

He laughed cynically. "What kind of husband and father would I be if I didn't remember such details?"

Her brows rose in apparent disbelief at these words, but she merely replied, "As far as I know, he's been very busy lately."

"That's a shame, I would have liked to have met him," Draco smiled surveying her thoughtfully.

"Oh, I didn't think you were keen on the idea of a muggle speech therapist. From what I recall of the conversation we had about it with your mother, you were less than enthusiastic about the idea. Why the change of heart?" she asked as she lead the way into the hall.

He kept his expression bland as he watched her riffle through the papers in her briefcase. "I'd never considered the idea at the time," he shrugged.

"I liked Dennis!" Aurora announced, also watching Hermione. "He used to give me sweets and tiggle me."

"Did he now?" Draco responded jovially. "He does indeed seem nice. Shall we invite him here?"

He saw the look of discomfort cross Hermione's face as she did up the fastenings of the briefcase. "I don't think that's a good idea, considering he's never heard of wizards," she said dryly.

"I presume he has a practice?" Draco persisted. His gaze fell to her left hand and the slender wedding band fitting snugly to her ring finger.

"Yes, in South London," she replied briefly.

"Excellent, we can pay him a visit there."

"I suppose," she agreed with obvious reluctance, glancing at her watch. "I'd better go. Be sure to take Aurora's swimming things to the nursery today. They go swimming on Thursdays. Also, remember to give Andromeda the money for the lesson, I've left it on Aurora's dressing table."

He rolled his eyes with exasperation. "Hermione, I do know!"

She bent and kissed Aurora before replying. "Yes well, it's best to make sure. See you tonight."

Usually morning partings between them were awkward to say the least, and she especially would hurry out with the barest of nods in his direction. Starting from this morning, however, things would be different. He took her travelling cloak from Hilly and put it round her shoulders, then turned her to him.

"Have a good day," he said, bending and kissing her lingeringly. Her eyes widened in surprise and she made to step back but he held her shoulders captive, his lips still caressing hers.

After a moment of rigidity, she returned the kiss, although reluctantly, then stepped back.

"What time will you be home?" he asked, tucking a strand of newly washed hair behind her ear.

"Hopefully before 6." Turning to Aurora, she said, "Have a good day at nursery, darling, and be good."

"I'm always good," came the sulky retort.

Hermione gave her one last hug, then entered the apparition chamber and disapparated with a pop.

"Come on, breakfast time," Draco said cheerily, trying to take Aurora's hand, but she pulled it away and scowled.

"I'm not hungry," she announced, turning away.

"But you've not had any breakfast," he responded, stung. "Ami's made muffins, you like those."

"No, I don't! I hate you! Go away!" With that, she turned and ran up the stairs leaving him staring after her in bewilderment.

Draco blinked, nonplussed. He didn't understand what had happened. Slowly, he climbed the stairs, unsure what to do for the best. One moment, Aurora had been in a good mood, the next she was furious with him, but why? He replayed the scene in the hall over in his head and couldn't for the life of him understand what had made her behave in this way. Tentatively, he knocked on her door and, when there was no answer, pushed it open.

She was sitting on the bed, clutching a brown bear, her expression woebegone. On sight of him, she scowled.

"Go away! I don't want you!"

"But why? What have I done?" he asked in genuine puzzlement, perching on the side of her bed but not daring to touch her.

"You're howwid and I don't like you any more."

"But what have I done?" he asked again, feeling desperation creeping into his voice. She certainly knew how to wound.

"Mummy's my mummy! She's not yours!"

"I know that," he agreed in bafflement.

"Then don't kiss her!" she yelled, tears sliding down her cheeks.

It was as though a light had been switched on in his brain and suddenly, he understood what was upsetting her.

"Oh Aurora! I wasn't kissing her because I want her to be my mummy as well!" He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but kept a straight face. Instead he held out his arms to the tearful child. "Come here, I'll explain."

She eyed him with distrust, then crawled into his lap. "Oh my little princess, what a silly thing you are. I was kissing Mummy goodbye, that's all."

"But you've never kissed her before," she sniffed looking up at him through wet lashes.

"Before, Mummy wouldn't let me kiss her." Then an idea slid into his mind and it was all he could do not to grin.

"You must have seen Uncle Harry kissing Aunty Ginny like that."

She was silent for a moment, then nodded.

"Exactly, and soon after that, their baby was born."

He waited, and sure enough her eyes widened. "Does kissing people like that make you get babies?"

"It can," he confirmed gravely.

It was amazing how swiftly her expression altered from resentment to excitement. "Wealy? If I kiss a boy like that, will it make a baby?"

Draco blanched and almost choked. "No!" he spluttered in horror. This definitely wasn't going the way he had planned. "No, don't even think of that!"

"But you said that kissing makes babies, so if I kiss Jack, or Alex or…."

"No!" he said again. "No, only adults kissing like that can make babies, not children."

"Why not? I bet it can. Childwen will make little babies, this big." She held her hands three inches apart to demonstrate the size.

Taking a deep breath, Draco squared his shoulders. He had to stop this before she made any more such suppositions. "Aurora, no. Only grown ups can make babies and its much more complex than just kissing each other." He couldn't believe he was having this conversation with a child.

"How?" she asked with interest. "I asked Mummy but she wouldn't say." Her face was all eagerness now, as she gazed at him.

Draco could well imagine that she wouldn't. Deciding that this conversation had gone far enough, he stood up with Aurora cradled in his arms. "Right, breakfast time!"

"But you haven't told me how you make babies," she protested loudly. "Maybe Mummy doesn't know and that's why we don't have one."

Draco groaned inwardly, Merlin help him. He closed his eyes and silently cursed her quick brain. How was he supposed to get out of this? He dreaded to think of what she'd be like as a teenager. The mere thought made him go cold with horror.

"Look, you'll find out all about it when you're older, ok?" he attempted to placate.

"But I want to know now! If I know, I can help you and Mummy make the baby," she reasoned as he carried her downstairs and into the breakfast room.

"Aurora, that's enough!" he said sternly, settling her into the chair beside his own. "If you don't hurry up, the others will have gone swimming without you and I'll be late for work."

XoXoXoXo

Draco's office at Nimbus brooms was spacious, and prototypes of the latest brooms were scattered around it. He tried again to concentrate on the report of the Nimbus 2005, which was currently undergoing trials, but it was no good. His thoughts moved to his secretary in the well known broom company, Gordon McLeod, and pity for the man rose up within him.

The day before, Gordon and his wife had gone for their fifth and last session of IVF at St Celestina's clinic in Oxford. They had been trying to have children for the past ten years and no potions, whether magical or muggle, had helped. This was their last chance, and Draco hoped with all his heart that they would succeed.

He tried to imagine what it would be like knowing that your partner could not have children, and a shudder passed through him as he contemplated the thought. Children were such an integral part of life that not having them seemed unnatural. What person wouldn't want to carry on their family line?

He supposed that for women the urge to procreate was more than just seeing a continuation of their families; didn't they have maternal instincts or some such? That was probably why Gordon's wife had been so insistent on using every potion and method known to mankind to try and conceive.

Unwillingly, Draco's thoughts turned to his own situation and he wondered how he would feel knowing that Hermione could not have any more children. Would he love her less as a result? The thought of this made him shudder in revulsion and he knew that for him, it wouldn't matter. Admittedly he would be disappointed and may suggest that they adopt, but if she didn't want to, he would not force her. As Gordon had pointed out the day before, you had to remember there was more to life than just children, something Gordon's poor wife was having a hard time accepting.

For most people, finding a partner they could love and respect was a miracle, and Draco knew that he had this in Hermione. If the past had taught him anything, it was to appreciate what he did have rather than pine for something that he didn't. His mind flitted back over the years, to the time when he had first started noticing Hermione as something more than an extension of Harry Potter; he supposed it was in the third year when she had slapped him, although he couldn't be sure.

At the time, she had been the unattainable, the stuff of fantasies he would daydream about whenever he had a spare moment. It had been in their fifth year when she had become more to him than a hidden desire, and he had started wanting her on more than just a metaphysical level. He remembered as though it were yesterday when he had determined to have her for himself. It had been after his father's death; one of the worst days in his life, and looking back, he knew that this had probably been one of his least rational ideas, but it had helped keep in sane. Throughout the next few difficult years, he had followed her every action with an obsession verging on the dangerous.

Draco's lips curved in remembrance when he thought of his plan to win Hermione. Even now, he had to congratulate himself on the brilliance of that plan. It hadn't been his fault that she had behaved in a way which was contrary to wizarding decency. Her actions even now angered him, although in a hidden recess of his mind he admired her fortitude. The plan may not have worked straight away but it was the reason for their marriage, which brought him back to the question of more children.

He had to admit that in the scope of things, children, while wonderful, were not the be all and end all, and after all, he did have Aurora! Maybe this was why Hermione didn't want any more children; as some women were more maternal, it was perfectly possible that others weren't. Also, now he came to think about it, having a child was much more strain on a woman than a man. The physical aspect of it aside, it was very emotionally draining. It couldn't have been easy bringing up Aurora on her own. If it had been him, he doubted if he would want more after that experience. Hermione also had her career for which she had worked so hard. More children would mean taking a break from work, and if he knew one thing, it was that the world of healing was as ruthless and ambitious as any.

He took a deep breath, and made a decision; from now onwards, he would not mention the idea of more children to Hermione. If she wanted to have more, it was fine by him, but he would not be the one to bring it up. Everyone had to make compromises, and if he had a choice between Hermione and more children, he would take Hermione any day! Anyway, pressuring her to have more children may make her want to leave him and he couldn't bear that. There were Malfoys in France after all. Not a well known branch of the family, but they would carry on the family name. For him, such values held little appeal, the war had seen to that. Maybe Aurora would give him grandchildren, there was always that hope.

No, he would not talk of more children, and instead concentrate his efforts on the one he already had. So deciding, he bent finally to the report lying before him, his mind much lighter now that he had come to this difficult conclusion.


End file.
